Someone Like Me
by Phantom Muse
Summary: I have started rewriting this fic. It's new title is Kindred Spirits. For those of you who read SLM, please go back and read the updated version. I've changed A LOT!
1. Chapter 1

_Maria Torque_

"Bonjour, ma chere," I greeted my husband at his arrival from his work.

"Good day to you, my dear Maria." He takes me in his arms and lines my neck with kisses.

"I have a great bit of news to share with you, love."

"Indeed? Then I am very much interested. Shall you share is with me now or later?" he asks.

"Jacque, I am expecting a child," I say.

His facial expressions change...he seems quite suprised. He stands in what I take to be awe.

"Jacque, are you not happy?" I question, grasping his arms.

He suddenly smiles, glee consuming his visage. "My beautiful Maria, I am over-joyed at this news, and I cannot wait for the child's birth." He trails my jaw with his finger-tips and then kisses my lips gently. "Our infant shall be proof of our love for one another."

"Yes. I'm glad you are not angry with me," I sigh in relief.

"Maria, why would I be mad?"

"I was taught that it is almost impossible to tell how a man will react to news of his wife's pregnancy. However, now, I suppose I should not concern myself with it."

"Of course you should not concern yourself with such. You are shall be a mother, you sill not put yourself under stress...it is not good for the baby."

"I am aware of that, Jacque. I'm quite excited...I pray the day of the birth comes quickly."

The day has come and at a terrible pain aswell as the liquid that stains my night gown, my husband lifts me from the ground and carries me to our bedroom. I am laid in the bed and then before I can really grasp what is truely happening, the midwife is telling me to push. I do as I am told but the midwife's expression changes after she tells me I am close to delivering my child.

"What...has...happened?" I ask between gasps of breath due to my tiredness.

"The birth cord is around the infant's neck...strangling the little one. You must do as I say or your child will die."

The delivery takes much longer than anyone expected...twenty minutes longer than it hshould have. It is early morning when the midwife raises herself from the level of the bed, she holds in her arms a screaming child. After a moment of cleaning the baby, she places the bundle of blankets and skin in my arms. The combination of Jacque and I is a little girl...beautiful in every way.

I look her features over intently... she has no outward resemblance to her father or me...her eyes pupils are as black as coals, her hair is silver, and she has skin that is paler than that of a ghost.

"Where is our child, Maria?" Jacque enters. He crosses the room and looks down upon the child resting quietly in my arms.

"She is here, Jacque," I reply.

"She's...quite different," he says atlast. "She does not resemble you or I in the least."

"Kiera is unique, Jacque...perfect the way she is. Her hair may be silver and her eyes may be blacker than night, but I love her the way she is...there is nothing wrong with her." I kiss her forehead.

"Kiera?"

"Yes...it sounds exotic to me, and seems quite fitting. Don't you agree?"

"Of course."

_Jacque_

Maria and I raised Kiera like a normal child but hid her away from the world for fear of her being ridiculed and abused due to her uniqueness. She always questioned this but accepted the answer that her mother and I gave. Unlike most little girls, Kiera was not very fond of light colored dresses...she preferred dark colors, especially black. No matter how hard we tried to get her to wear lighter colored clothes, she refused and ran off to her room to play the piano or her violin...even at a young age, she was very skilled with both and any other musical instrument she could get her sneaky little hands on. However, she was happy and to us, that was all that mattered.

When Kiera was eight years old, Maria, her mother and my beloved wife, died of pnuemonia. For days after the funeral, Kiera sat in her room and played mournful tunes on her violin that seemed to heavy the air with sorrow. Those days turned to weeks and those weeks to months. One day, I lost my temper. I flew up the stairs at the sound of the violin, stormed into her room, and gave her quite the thrashing. I do not remember what all I said to her but whatever I did, it kept her from speaking to me and from playing or even leaving the bedroom.

Without her annoying me with her sorrow filled music, I found another woman...Cassandra. At first I only saw her when we went to dinner or met on the streets, but then, I invited her to spend the day with me. I had no intentions of her meeting Kiera or evening knowing that I was a father.

"Jacque, my dear, what is that sound?" she asked as we sat on the sofa and talked.

I listened carefully...Kiera was playing her damned violin again. "I'm sure it is nothing, here, have a glass of brandy." We drank until we were struck by a fit of insane laughter that stirred Kiera from her room.

She appeared at the bottom of the stairs, violin in hand. "Papa, what is going on?" she inquired quietly.

"What is that?" Cassandra screamed, pointing at the silver haired girl at the stairs. "Get rid of it..it's hideous!"

Too drunk to know what I was doing, I yanked Kiera by her arm and yelled, "Why have you done this, you little demon? How dare you embarrass me in front of my fiance!"

"I'm sorry, Papa! I didn't know you had company, honest! Please, don't hurt me!"

"It's too late for apologies, you retched thing." I threw her to the ground and snatched her violin from her hands, beating it against the wall until it was in pieces. The bow I broke across my knee.

Kiera, being a musician, was offended and shouted that I was a horrible person. She started up the stairs to retreat into the solitude of her dark room but I tackled her to the ground and dragged her back to the den. With Cassandra watching happily, I began to smash Kiera's face into the floor, holding her by her now curly silver hair.

"Stop!" she cried with each blow, but I did not...and would not.

A knock at the door forced me to stop. Cassandra answered to the elderly lady next door who had befriended Kiera.

"What is going on in here? I heard screaming and quite a bit of other ruckess. Good heavens! Kiera, child, what has happened to your face?" she rushes to the girl lying face down on the floor, blood dripping from her lip and nose.

"She fell, Madam, down the stairs."

'Is that so? Why do I smell brandy? Have you and your friend been drinking, Monsieur Torque?"

"Of course not, it was Kiera, she's been quite curious lately and got into the bottle."

"Oh, I see. Well, make certain you care for her wounds and you must be more careful, Kiera. We cannot let you get hurt. Am I clear?"

Kiera nodded and then hurried off to her room.


	2. Chapter 2

_Kiera_

"Why does he do this to me?" I ask myself, staring over the remains of my ruined violin. "Why is he so mean now that Maman is gone? Why does he have to treat me so horribly?" Tears swell in my eyes and then make their way down my porcelain white cheeks.

"Au revoir, ma cherie," I hear my stupid father's voice say.

Through the window of my room, I see that he is kissing that filthy whore that he calls his fiance. I'll not have her for a step-mother...especially considering the way she treated me earlier. _I'd like to teach her a lesson!_

An idea pops into my head. _The gravel in the garden would be the perfect size for throwing at her from a distance._ I hurry down the vines below my window into the garden, keeping low to the ground and hidden amongst the shadows. I choose three stones and duck behind some rose bushes for cover.

"Don't expect me back for a while, dearest..I have business affairs I must attend."

"I shall count the seconds until your return."

"And, the next time I visit...I know that little thing with the looks of a demon will be gone for good."

"Filthy skank!" I growl and fling a stone at her. It hits her square in the jaw.

She screams and stumbles back. "Who dares?"

I only sit and giggle...serves her right.

"Kiera!" my father shouts.

"It came from the garden!" Cassandra grumbles.

"Wait here!" He starts into the house.

"Where are you going!"

"To get my gun!" He rushes into the house.

"Kiera," someone whispers my name. "Kiera, child, quickly!"

I turn to my left to find Madam Bardoix motioning for me. "Madam?"

"My dear, Kiera, please! Come inside before he kills you!" She hurries to the gate of the garden and opens it. "Please!" She takes my hand and hurries me into her home.

I immediately go to the window to watch the scene unfolding at my home.

"Just wait until I find her...I will kill her the way I should have the day she was born!" Father steps out with his rifle in hand.

"Child, come away from there!" Madam Bardoix pulls me away from the window and closes the curtains. "Do you want to be killed?"

"My life would probably be better if I were to be," I sigh.

"My sweet, please, do not say such."

"No one loves me, Madam."

"You're wrong about that. I love you, and since your father is obviously not capable of raising you, I shall. You will be my daughter. After all, I've never had a little girl...my children were all boys. And, you can keep me company and go with me to Paris to shop. Would you like that?" She brushes my hair behind my ears.

"Well...I've never been to Paris, but I've read that it is the most beautiful place there is. I'd love to stay with you, Madam Bardoix!" I exclaim and throw my arms around her waist in a hug.

Of course, being the sweet lady she is, she hugs me too, the affection that I have not known in such a long time being restored to me. "I'm glad you wish to stay with me, ma petite."

"Should I call you 'Maman' now?" I ask.

"If you like, but I leave that to you." She smiles down at me.

"Very well...Maman." I kiss her cheek and then sit beside her on the sofa for the remainder of the evening, resting my head against her shoulder until I fall asleep happily for the first time in weeks.

The next morning, I wake in a large room with little decoration, much like my old room but this one is much warmer and inviting. The smell of rotten wood and wet carpet is not lingering in the air...the bugs are no where to be found.

"Bonjour, Kiera," my new mother says, opening the door.

"Bonjour, Maman!" I squeal and hurry into her embrace.

She kisses me cheek. "Come into the bathroom...I've run some warm water for you to bathe in." She takes my hand and leads me across the room to a pair of doors. She reaches out, pushing the lever down, and steps into the room. "This is your bathroom, Kiera...you may do what you like...change, bathe, brush your hair...but let us refrain from artistic creations on the walls without my consent."

"Yes, Maman," I reply.

"Very good. Now, would you like my help?"

"No...I can handle things myself."

"As you wish but should you need my assistance, simply call for me. I'll come as soon as I can."

"Merci."

I remove my clothes and step into the warm water in the tub. The warmth runs throughout my body, thawing my frozen toes, and a bit of my heart, that has grown cold over the year due to my father's lack of love for his princess...but that ws once upon a time. _How often do things start out that way but eventually go bad?_ My life is like a fairytale at times...the little princess winning out in the end against the evil tyrant trying to imprison her...other times, it is like a bad dream, one I can't not wake up from...a horrible monster has thrown me into the dungeon to await my turn at the guillotine and just as the blade falls towards my bare neck, I wake in a cold sweat.

"Kiera?" Maman knocks at the door. "Is everything all right in there? It's been nearly an hour."

"I'm fine!" I call to her.

"Is the water still warm?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Very good. Remember, if you need something, do not hesitate to call for me."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I lean back against the side of the tub for a brief moment before washing...of course, after my spat with the bar of soap ends, the slippery devil...and then grab the towel waiting for me, wrapping it around my body as I step from the watery paradise.

In my room, my clothes are missing. "My dress! Maman..." _Calling her that seems so awkward but it is nice to be able to use that term again in address to someone who actually loves me almost as much as my real mother did. _"Have you seen my dress?"

"Yes, Kiera. I've washed it and it's on the clothes-line outside. Look in the closet...some of my sons' old clothes are in there...I believe they are your size. I'm afraid you'll have to wear them until I've repaired your old dress and we've gone to Paris, bought you a few new dresses and shoes, of course," she says from outside the door.

"Maman, I don't want to be a burden...won't that be a great deal of money?"

"Not for me, child. I've more money saved up from all the years that I've no idea what to do with it...until now."

"What might your intentions be, Maman, while I'm here?" I question, pulling on a pair of trousers.

"Why to spoil my little girl...daughters are for spoiling...sons are there to help with the heavy work," she laughs.

"You plan to spoil me?" I step into the hall where she stands.

"Nothing less." She kisses my cheek.

The very next day, she wakes me early with a dress for me to put on. "What's this?"

"I've fixed your dress. Now, put it on, ma petite...we're going to Paris today to shop."

"It's a different color," I whisper.

"I hope you don't mind the midnight blue color. It was the only dark color I had."

"You completely remade it."

"Yes...I had nothing to do last night."

"You should have been asleep, Maman. Thank you for caring." I hug her and then hurry back into my room to change.

After changing, I hurry down the stairs and meet Maman at the door.

"Into the carriage with you, Kiera," she orders sweetly.

I giggle and jump into the waiting carriage. She follows and sits beside me. "I've never been in one these before," I sigh.

"You haven't?"

"No, Papa never let me go anywhere even if Maman tried to take me...before she got sick."

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry, dear. Well, since this is your first ride, allow me to put forth some rules." I nod and she continues, "You must remain seated at all times...if we were to hit a bump in the road, you could hurt yourself. Second, do not lean against the door, it is possible for it to open and send you tumbling into the street. Thirdly, enjoy the view from your window. Oh, and no badgering the driver or horses."

"I've put them to memory, Maman." I lean against her shoulder and stare out the window as we make our way to Paris...a new place for me and new adventures, aswell as new memories in the start of a new, and happier life...I hope.

**Happy now ladies? I make it better_...for a while!_** **_Read and review or I'll get you (dude, it rhymed...I'm so losing my mind...anyone else agree? lol 0D ) (so maybe I'm not a perfect angel but still...gotta love me for updating) _**


	3. Chapter 3

_Kiera_

"Here we are, Kiera," Maman says.

"We're in Paris?"

"Yes, dear. Now, come along, we're going clothes shopping."

"Very well." After she climbs from the carriage with the driver's assistance, I climb out. "Thank you, sir."

"Oh, please, young miss, call me Joseph or Jo, if you like."

"Oh. Then...thank you, Jo." I smile at him, making him laugh before he climbs back into the coach.

"Come along, child. We've much to do in a small amount of time." Maman takes my hand and leads me down the streets.

At first I amazed by the glittering glass of the store windows and the objects behind the glass. However, soon, I begin to notice that the people walking the streets near us are staring at me...or atleast they appear to be.

"Maman," I whisper. "Are they staring at me?"

She looks at some of the people and then turns back to me. "Yes, at your beauty."

I nod; we continue on our way. Once we arrive at the shop, she leads me inside and to the counter.

"Can I help you, Madame?" A woman in a long, bright blue dress appears. "Oh my!" She stumbles back at the sight of me.

"Yes, Madam, we are here to fit my little girl for a few dresses." She takes my hand and smiles at me.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle. If you will, come this way and we'll fit you for several new dresses."

The woman wraps a measuring tape around my waist, then measures my height. "What colors would you like, miss?"

I do not say anything...I'm a bit afraid of her.

"She prefers dark colors...forest green, midnight blue, black, crimson."

"Very well, though that's quite odd for a little girl." She writes everything down and then says, "I suppose frills, lace, and ribbons decortaing these dresses are out of the question. I will have atleast one done by tomorrow...the others will be done in about three days."

"Merci, Madam." Maman places several franks on the counter and we leave the shop. After a little walking, we arrive at a shoe store wear Maman orders three pairs of shoes. Next, we stop at a cafe for dinner. Afterwards, Maman buys paint, new comforters, sheets, and pillow cases for my room.

When we return home, Jo unloads our packages and takes them inside.

The next week, Maman sends Jo into Paris to pick up my dresses and shoes, while she and I redecorate my room. In two weeks time, my room is red and I have new dresses and shoes.

One day, a knock at the door distracts me from the piano I am passionately playing for Maman.

"Kiera, will you get the door?"

"Yes, Ma'am." I open the door to two men with ladies on their arms. "Can I help you?"

"Who are you?" one of the women snears.

"Kiera," I reply.

"Pierre, Henri, Laurette, Susanna!" Maman comes to the door. "Kiera, these are my sons and their wives. Boys, ladies, this is Kiera, Jacque Torque's daughter."

"Then why is she here?"

"Jacque has become quite abusive to her and was going to kill her a few weeks ago; I couldn't let him hurt her anymore, so I took her in."

"Oh." They all slip past me and enter the den where we all sit and talk...well, atleast they talk. I remain silent. Throughout the day, our guests constantly stare at me in a cruel manner.

Atlast they get up to leave. "You won't last here for long, I guarentee you that," Henri whispers as he walks out.

I do not tell Maman of this. Then one night my father shows up, beating on the front door.

"Kiera!" Maman yells, waking me at two in the morning. "You're father is here with a gun. You must hide!"

I run into my bathroom and hide in the pantry.

"Where is she!" I hear Papa yell.

"Who? No one is here, Monsiuer Torque!" Maman protests.

"I know she's here! You've been harboring her from me! Kidnapper!"

"No one is here! No one but me!"

Their voices grow louder and louder until they are coming from inside my room.

"Oh, then why is this room newly decorated, with dresses in the closet, shoes, and a violin?"

"Those have been here since my daughter was still living with me!"

"You don't have a daughter!" All grows quiet. "She's in the bathroom isn't she!"

I hear his footsteps approaching the door. I flee from the closet just as he enters the room.

"There you are, Kiera," he laughs. He starts towards me but Maman jumps in front of me.

"You'll not touch her!"

"Out of my way, Madam," he orders.

"No!"

"Now!"

"Kiera, run!"

"Shut up, bitch!" He slaps Maman to the ground, causing her to hit her head on the tub. After this she is quiet.

I hurry from the room and down the stairs. I go outside and run as fast as I can into the woods.

"Kiera! Where are you! Come out! I am your father and you will do as I say!" Papa screams from the edge of the forest.

I hide in the woods all night. At dawn, when I am certain Papa is unconscious in his bed from his drinking, I slip back into Maman's home to find her. I search the first floor for several hours, looking for her and calling her name. I recieve no answer. I search upstairs now, looking everywhere but my bathroom. Still no sign of her, so I timidly enter my bathroom.

"No!" I scream as I see her body lying lifelessly upon the ground, blood staining her clothes and the floor...all of it apparently from the wound in her skull from where she hit the tub. "Maman! No!"

I sit and cry for the next hour, and after a great deal of thought, I decide that my father must pay.

I quietly enter his house and find his rifle. I know how to use it very well. In his room I stare at him for a moment before kicking him in his side, waking him.

"What? Kiera, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to avenge my new mother's death. You killed her!" I scream, pointing the rifle in his face.

"Now, child, you know you haven't the heart to kill me, your father. You aren't strong enough to. You'll never pull the trigger."

"Yes, I will! I'll kill you!"

"No, you won't. You're just a stupid little girl, incapable of killing anyone. Besides, if you do kill me, where will you go?"

"That's my decision, isn't it?"

"Shut up, you demon!"

"What? I am not a demon! **_You _**are a demon...devil sent to torment me! I am sick of your costant torture! You've ruined my life! If it weren't for Mother, I would not show you as much mercy as I am now!"

"You were nothing but a mistake, Kiera! You weren't meant to be born!" he shouts.

"No, the mistake was Mother ever loving you enough to create me. Good-bye, Papa, and I hate you!" I pull the trigger and stare as blood splatters all over the floor and walls. A hole is in his chest from where the bullet entered.

I set the rifle in his hand to make it look as if it were suicide and leave. I gather a few of my posessions at my former mother's home...I put on my shoes, my black dress, and my cloak. I wrap a loaf of bread in a handkerchief and fill a cantine with water, then leave...never to return to this forsaken place. For, if I were to remain here, I'd have to dispose of the bodies and then once they were found, I'd be blamed for both deaths. Over the years, I've learned that because I am different, I will always be treated unfairly. _I wish I could find someone like me out there who would accpet me for the way I am...perhaps a man out there would love me...my silver hair, my eyes black as night, and my pale skin. Maybe he'll love music as much as I. Yes, maybe someday I'll find him._


	4. Chapter 4

_Kiera_

Three weeks...I have been on my journey away from my former home for three weeks now and what a long three weeks it has been. I've encountered many people along my path but have spoken to none, instead of confronting them as I probably should, I've run away to hide...to avoid those who I know will ridicule me for my strange appearence. I've arrived in a little town outside of Rouen, northwest of Paris.

I enter under dark of night, hopefully to find shelter, food, and water...I'll not stay here long...remaining any one place for an extended period of time is risky. The police may be stupid but I doubt they are dumb enough to not look everywhere possible.

I sit behind a bush, waiting for the right moment to spring forward into the town unseen. I suddenly feel the presence of another being hovering nearby. I turn about and search the shapes and shadows for any unfamiliar objects. To my left, I notice a tall, lean figure standing next to an oak tree. Above their head, a broken branch dangles, barely attached. The crackle of the remainging wood splintering apart, I dash forward and push the person from below the tree just as the branch gives way and comes crashing down.

"What in the world was that?" the person's voice asks. "You saved me from that falling limb. Thank you."

I quickly pick myself up and walk away, consealing myself in the shadows.

"Do you not wish to speak and accept my gratitude?"

I stop but say nothing.

"Can...you...speak?" the female voice says in syllables.

"Yes, I can speak. I'm not ignorant and you don't have to talk to me as if I were a toddler...prenunciating each and every syllable of every word," I reply sharply.

"Good. Now, will you reveal yourself? I prefer to be able to see clearly the person I am addressing."

"It is best if you do not. I'll not be able to frighten you and you'll not be able to run off and tell your friends that you encountered some sort of demon in the forest."

"Come out of the shadows! Now!" She lunges forward and grabs my arm, pulling me out into the faint moonlight and what amount of light the town lamps emit.

I stare coldly at her.

"God in heaven!" she screams. "A ghost! A demon! A monster!"

"I told you it would be best if I did not appear for your viewing."

"You horrid thing, you retrieved me from my doom only to torment me with your foul features. What is it you intend to do with me? Take me away to the pits of Hell because of my sin?"

"Madame, I assure you, I know nothing of your sins other than being stupid enough not to take notice of the broken branch."

"Yes, you do. You've come because I've cheated on my husband with his brother!"

_Hmmm...this may have some sort of advantage. If she thinks I am a demon here to take her away...perhaps I will have that affect over the entire town and be able to get everything I need by claiming to know their sins..threaten to take them to Hell if my directions are not met. Indeed, I believe I will use this little encounter._

"Ah, yes, your night of 'fun' with Monsieur's brother. Truly, I am here to take you away but I have strict orders to do as I please with you."

"Oh, please, have mercy!" she groans.

"I will only have mercy should you do exactly as I say. Meet my every command and I will consider letting this mishap go. Do we have a deal, Madame?"

"Yes, dark one. What shall your bidding be of me now?"

"I need shelter and nurishment...surely you can provide that."

"But why would you need such things...you are immortal?"

"If you do not do as I say, I'll take you to into Hell's enternal fire right now!" I boom.

"Oh, no! Please, this way to my home." She leads me into the town and to a small house near the square. "Here we are, oh, evil one."

I step inside. "A very well kept cottage...very good. Is your husband about, Madame?"

"Not at the moment...he's at work. He's a blacksmith...the town's only one. Make yourself at home, Ma'am. I'll get you a glass of water and then fix you a fine meal." She disappears into another room of the little home and then returns with a cold glass of water. She nervously gives it to me, splattering a few drops upon my dress.

"An accident?"

"Yes! Yes...I didn't mean to get you wet, do forgive me!" she exclaims, throwing herself upon the ground before me.

"You have my forgiveness, but this is not to happen again!" I sneer.

"Thank you and it will never happen again!" She hurries off to the kitchen to prepare my meal.

Within an hour, there is a hot plate of bread, pasta(though odd for France), corn and mashed potatoes. I eat slowly and savor the delightful meal. "That was positively delicious. Merci. Now, I need lodgings."

"Of course, this way." I follow her up a flight of stairs, down the tiny hall into the last door.

I find myself in a quaint little room simply decorated, much like my room at Madame Bardoix's before we fixed it up. "This will do. Goodnight, Madam." I wave her away and sit down on the bed, opening my violin case. I keep it with me at all times.

I begin to play one of my birth mother's lullabies, I only vaguely remember the words, but the melody is engraved in my memory. I believe the words were:

_Sleeping babe_

_So young and sweet_

_Many memories you've made_

_Fond memories to keep._

_Eternal love_

_I pray you find_

_My little dove_

_So cute and kind._

_Forget me not_

_My precious little girl_

_Whenever your alone, remember that you're really not_

_For I'm in your heart, forever there to swirl._

_This lullaby I sing_

_In your memory to engrave_

_So you'll never forget_

_Your mother loves you_

_Even beyond Judgment Day._

This song is tough to sing, though the the tune and lyrics are simple. The last time I sang this was to my mother the day she died. She passed away with my hand in hers as I sang our song. She was really sick and the only peace she'd find would be through death, the pain was always there but atleast she was smiling when the dark finally consumed her.

Tears swell in my eyes and are close to falling but I choke them back and simply whisper, "Maman."

Over the years, I've forgotten her...pushed her memory into the back of my mind. I had tried not to show it then, but I couldn't bare to be without her. She was the only person who treated me as if I were a normal child, despite my looks and many talents.

"That was beautiful. How can you be pure evil and be able to sing and play something so lovely?"

"I am a dark angel, Madam, not a demon as you believe. I know the hurt and ridicule this world brings. I once endured it but escaped only to be sent back. Now, I wish to be left alone...I need my sleep. Again, I bid you goodnight, Madam."

The night passes slowly, as all other nights do. However, with morning, I find strength and leave the cottage to explore this new place and perhaps terrorize the townspeople.

My first victim is a young woman near the fountain at the center of the town's square. She is going back and forth, pouring buckets of water on the flowers along the path. As she is emptying a bucket, I slip into the fountain's water and lie on my stomach. When she returns and sticks her hand in the water, I grab it and pull myself up, widening my eyes. She screams in terror and tries to shake me loose. I keep my grip on her arm as she backs away...I step out of the fountain and onto the cobblestone, still grasping her arm. She turns away and just as she does this, I release her arm, and disappear into the nearby bushes. Leaving her awe-stricken and believing that she has seen a ghost.

My next victim is a man in his mid-forties perhaps. I stand in an alley, a blank expression captured on my visage. He notices me and stops to look. Thinking that he is seeing things no doubt, he looks the other direction, but when I looks back to the alley, he cannot see me. I am hiding behind a cart. He scratches his head and continues on. I follow him, unseen, until he goes into a cafe and takes a seat near the window. While he is not looking, I position myself at the window just to where I can quickly duck into the alley. Again, I use the blank look and stare at him with eyes widened. He doesn't notice me at first. To get his attention, I place my hand on the glass, and let it slide, causing a squeaking noise. He looks to the window and jumps. I see his lips move to call the waitress. However, when she comes to his aid and looks to where I had been standing, I am gone again.

The final person to fall to my pranks is a teenage boy, stealing things from carts. I follow him about and elearn how he does things and then, as he turns to swipe a loaf of broad, I jump behind him. He turns back round to see me staring at him angrily.

"It's not nice to steal," I say in an angered tone.

"So, what do you care, ugly?" He goes to turn around and finds me blocking his path in the other direction. "How did you? All right, nut-case, what's with the tricks?"

"I told you it isn't nice to steal."

"What are you?"

"A ghost. What else?"

"A g...g...g..g..ghost!" he screams in terror and runs away, throwing the loaf of bread into the air.

I catch it and palce it back on the cart, then hurry away myself, before I can be blamed for the theft. Though, it really would make no difference, I could just scare the accuser and change their mind. I laugh to myself and run off in search of something else to do.

There is a gathering at the fountaint where my first "attack" took place.

"I swear to you, there was a ghost. It was in the water and attacked me!" my first vistim claims.

"Mademoiselle, I'm sure you were just imagining things," an older man says.

"No! I swear! She was there!"

"It is a shame when you do not believe your own townspeople," I say, managing, somehow, to make my voice echo all around them.

They all grow tense and begin to look about, searching for me. In the midst of the ruckess, I slip into the center of the crowd. "Looking for something?" I ask.

They all turn to me and scream in terror.

"Do not run or I shall make your lives horrible!" I order.

They all stand their ground despite the urge to flee...human curiosity.

"Are you the said ghost?"

"If you are asking whether or not I was the one who scared your Mademoiselle," I motion towards the young woman. "Then the answer is 'yes'. Howeverm I am no ghost, but an angel of darkness."

"Why are you here?"

"I need somewhere to stay as I wonder this horrid earth in search of my lost family. I've chosen this little town to be my resident unti lI choose to move on."

"Then yo uare welcome here," the apparent mayor says.

"What?" many townspeople protest.

"Do you want her to destroy us?" he says to them. "You are most welcome here, Ma'am." He bows to me. "Anything you want or need, do not hesitate to inform me of. My house in there." He points to a large home nearby. "Come to me, if you please."

"I shall. Merci. Now, farewell. I shall wander the nearby valley before returning. But, when I return, I require new lodgings. I will noy burden the woman who took me in last night."

"You shall stay with me," the mayor volunteers.

"Then when I return, I shall be at your door."

"My wife will prepare you a wondrous meal if you like."

"I would like that very much. Goodbye, mortals." I turn and walk towards the people behind me, causing the crowd to part like the Red Sea allowing me to pass unharmed and untouched my them, into the valley several hundred yards away.


	5. Chapter 5

_Kiera_

I remain in this place for 7 years...I'm now 16 and my features are the same, with the exception of my hair. My eyes are as dark as the night sky without the stars or moon, my hair, straight and silver, my skin still as pale as it was years ago. I've made my way to the country of Persia.

As I walk through the streets, I am greeted by stares. They do not bother me however...I'm used to people finding me a rather odd vision. Suddenly, everyone's attention turns the opposite direction. The sultaness has arrived amonst the crowds. Everyone bows to her as she steps into the midst of the throng of people. That is, everyone bows but me.

"You there!" one of her servants shouts.

"Me?" I say, slyly.

"Yes! Why do you not bow to Her Majesty?"

"Because I am not Persian, I will not bow. She has no jurisdiction over me."

"You will bow to the sultaness," she orders.

"I will not bow to her!"

"Then you will bow...headless!" He draws his sword.

"You may find it hard to behead someone who can move quicker than the blade of a sword."

"I doubt that!" He lunges at me.

With a quick back-flip, I avoid the blade.

"What?" He seems quite confused. "You'll not be able to do that again!" Once more, he lunges towards me.

This time I do a back-flip, and then after dodging the sword again, I spring forward, flipping over the servant's head.

"How did you?"

I laugh at the foolish man but I am not the only one laughing. The sultaness is chuckling aswell.

"My servant, it seems you are too slow for this acrobatic woman."

The man bows to her. "I have failed, will you have me killed, Milady?" he inquires nervously.

"No...not yet anyway." She waves him away. "You, Miss, what is your name?"

"Why is it that you wish to know?"

"I'd like to employ in my court."

"And what, in your court, will I be employed to do?"

"To perform your acrobatic moves...to entertain me and my guests, dear child."

"My wages and lodgings?"

"You'll have your own home and I'll pay 20 gold coins and five jewels...each day." She pulls out several coins and holds them out to me. "For this round of laughs."

"No tricks?" I ask.

"None whatsoever."

I take the coins and drop them into my pocket. "Thank you...Your Majesty. When do you wish me to come during the day?"

"Noon, when court begins. My guests and subjects will enjoy your performances. Good day...oh! I'd like to know your name."

"Kiera," I reply. "Oh, Madam, I hope you do not wish for me to bow."

"Madam? Why do you address me as such?"

"Pardon me, Your Highness, but I am originally from France and that is how we address our respectful superiors." Of course, I am telling her a lie...I'll not want to refer to her as the stupid other titles that others used to speak to her.

"Really?" She seems very enthused by this new title. "Then that is how you will address me..." She says more to herself, "Madam."

"Very well, Madam." I bow my head quickly and look back up to her.

"Good. I shall see you at noon tomorrow. Farewell." She climbs back into her shaded chair, carried by four men, and retreats to the cool palace.

I arrive the next day to find one of her ladies waiting for me. "Her Majesty wishes you to wear this while performing." She hands an odd looking outfit to me.

I raise my eyebrows as I look at the clothes. The top is short (I do mean short), shoulders do not exist. The top evidentally is supposed to be tight around me chest and breasts. The pants are odd looking. It covers what need be covered but the legs are see-through...simply thin pieces of material stretched from my waist to my ankles.

"No shoes?"

"No, Miss...you will be perfroming on the marble floors of the courtroom," the young woman replies.

"As, Madam, wishes." I wave her away and change. My suspicion of the top is correct it is help up by only my breasts, making it fit tightly. The pants, I must admit, are comfortable and allow me to move freely while doing my acrobatics.

"Miss Kiera, they are ready for you to perform. It is not wise to keep the sultaness waiting."

"I'm coming." I leave and head for the court, pulling my hair back as I go.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my newest form of entertainment. Kiera the acrobat." With this, I begin to do backflips into the middle of the room.

Thunderous applause errupts from the crowd as I cease to bow. I continue with a combination of two cartwheels, a round-off, and back flip. The crowd goes crazy over it. _Haven't they ever seen an acrobat before?_

"Continue, Kiera!" the sultaness orders.

"As you wish, Madam." I bow to her and flip backwards atleast five times..no pauses inbetween.

yet again, the corwd wails with excitement. "Continue! Continue! More! Please!" they shout.

Next, I climb atop a statue, performing a hand-stand before flipping off onto the hard floor; however, impact does not harm my feet. I bow once again in responce to the explosion of clapping.

For the next hour, I perform endless stunts, waring myself down. By the time, I am excused, I am erady to fall onto my bed and sleep for ages. At my new resident, I take off my costume and change into my normal clothes to rest for a bit.

I repeat all of this for the next 6 months, and the sultaness never tires of my countless moves. Although, she does demand that I invent some new stunt each time I perform...time consuming and energy draining.

I come into the court to find a man waiting impatiently at the entrance where I enter.

"Who are you?" I ask.

He turns about, a white mask covering half of his face. I step back, intimidated at first, but then I am a bit curious.

"Is it really any of your business, Mademoiselle?"

"I suppose not. Pardon moi, Monsieur." I turn away.

"You speak French?" he questions in a surprised tone.

"Yes. I'm from France."

"And, now, your favorite acrobat, Kiera!" I hear the sultaness que my entrance.

"I must perform. Au revoir." I enter with my usual back flips.

I go through my performance with ease and upon returning to the entrance, where the masked man waits still.

"Now, I'd like to introduce to you all, my newest entertainer. Erik, the master magician."

At the name Erik, the man enters with grace and majesty. "Erik...hm. A nice name."

When he returns, he says, "I hope you enjoyed the performance."

"Quite. It was truly fascinating. It seems yo uand I will be sharing the floor with our talents, Erik."

"Yes. Au revoir, Mademoiselle Kiera." He sweeps past me and disappears into the dark shadows as if he himself were one of them.

Erik and I share the court's attention for the next two years...helping one another develop new ideas for performances. We've become close friends...much to our surprise. He has built a contraption...a torture chamber...in which the sultaness places anyone she likes to be killed slowly and mercilessly. He would not have built it had it not been for the threat she made. Well...I suppose it wasn't much of a threat as it was a choice. He could either lie with her or make a killing device that she could view the victim's torture and eventual death. He, of course, chsoe to build the device.

"Kiera!" the sultaness shouts after a private performance. "I need to see my other entertainer, the magincian! Go to his residence and order him to come her immediately!"

"Yes, Madam." I bow and hurry from the palace to find Erik.

"Erik?" I knock at his door.

"Who dares to disturb me!" his voice booms. He opens the door, eyes flaring.

"It is I, mon ami," I say. I stand on quivering knees, and wish to coware behind something. His prescence is overwhelming and intimidating; he is the only person I fear.

"Kiera." He sighs, clearing his eyes of rage. "I thought that perhaps you were the daroga. He comes by often and has become rather bothersome. Do come in."

I follow him into the den where he sits in an arm chair. "Why have you come here, Mademoiselle Torque?"

"Erik, I haven't time to stay. The sultaness orders you to the palace...now."

"I'll not obey her orders. She is not over me."

"Erik, she'll put you in your own death contraption for the court to see. You must go."

He gets up and steps into a nearby room. I go after him to find him playing a slow, melodic tune on his violin. Before I know anything, I find myself sitting on a stool, my eyes closed, swaying to the tune. It's hypnotizing, entrancing me with its beautiful sound.

After he stops, I look to a clock. "It's been an hour!"

"Tell me, Kiera, do you play any instruments?"

"Erik, you must go to the palace!"

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"Erik!" He folds his arms across his chest and glares at me; therefore, I answer, "I play violin and piano."

"Aw. Then is it your song that entwines with mine in the early hours of the morn? Although they sound alike, I can pick out another instrument from my own."

"More than likely. Erik, please! Go, before she has your body hanging in the streets for everyone's viewing!" I plead.

"Kiera, it is late and you need your rest. Go." He ushers me to the door, grabbing his cloak off its hook.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm escorting you home. There are many bandets who would gladly rape you. I'll not allow it. Come."

"Thank you, Erik." I kiss his cheek lightly and enter my home.

"A pleasure, Mademoiselle. Good night." He turns on his heal and leaves without a sound, not even the swishing of his long, black cloak.

I change into my night gown and retire to bed.

"Good evening, Kiera!" a voice sneers, waking me from my slumber.

I open my eyes to the faint light of a torch and several men robed in black, masks covering their faces. I flee from bed, but am cornered. Again I try to escape but there are far too many of these strangers scattered about my house. Soon, I am tired, unable to run away any more. I lean against a wall and slide to the floor in a heap.

"Now, Her Majesty wants to see you." They yank me to my feet and drag me to the palace...I do not fight back...exhaustion has taken its tole upon my weary body. Eventually, the world grows dark and I am aware of nothing.

"Wake up, you arrogant piece of filth." Someone hisses, kicking me in my side like I am a dog.

I look up to find the sultaness staring over me. "Madam? What an honor."

"Don't patronize me, Kiera! You did not do as I said. Why didn't Erik come? Why?"

"He refused, Madam. I did my best."

"You were not to fail and for your treachery..."

"Treachery? I am no traitor. How can I force him to do something he doesn't want to?"

She kicks me in the face and then crushes my head into the dirt...bringing back memories of my childhood. "Silence! Seeing you also have a smart mouth, you will be put to death." She eases off my head and let's me raise my face from the soil. "To the torture chamber."

Before I have time to protest, I am tossed into the chamber like a doll.

"Erik!" I scream, hoping he will hear me somehow and rescue me from my fate since this is his contraption. I scream his name until dawn when the sultaness has decreed that I will meet my death.

"Let her torture begin," the sultaness commands.

At her words, the room I am in begins to grow hot...like the desert...I can feel sand inbetween my fingers.

Just as I am ready to lie down and wait to die, I hear Erik's voice boom, "What is the meaning of this?!"

"She is being punished for failure."

Through the window, I watch as he kneels and stares at me with worried eyes. I raise my head to look at him, but I am far to weak. "Release her! She has done nothing! Now! Lest you wish for me to tear it to pieces and free her myself!"

"You'll not do anything to interfere with her punishment!"

"Too late!" He takes a nearby brick and shatters the window. He pulls me from the sand and broken glass. "Are you all right?"

"I...I'm fine."

"Leave here. Return to France, flee to England, Germany, Scotland...anywhere. Just do not remain in this place, mon ami," he whispers.

"But what about you? You'll be killed!" I argue.

"Do not fear for me. I'll escape somehow but should you be harmed any further...I will have failed you. You are my only friend here...the only one not to coware before my face at first sight. I thank you. Now, go!"

"My prayers are with you. Au revoir, mon ami." I hug him tightly and run away, leaving Erik to his fate. _Please, God, _I pray as I run. _Keep him safe. Allow my one friend to remain in this world._


	6. Chapter 6

_Kiera_

Four more years have passed and I have heard nothing of my dear friend. By Erik's request, I returned to France...Paris, to be exact. I have been unsuccessful in finding residence in the city...compliments of my characteristics. I wander the streets every day, hoping that perhaps I will come upon a new place to call home other than a hotel. I play my violin for money in the streets.

As I walk through the market, looking for a few good pieces of fruit, I bump into an older woman. "Oh! Pardon moi, Madame!" I curtsy and look to the ground.

"Of course. It's quite all right, Mademoiselle." She notices the violin case in my hand. "Are you a musician?"

"Yes, Madam. I play on the streets for coins to pay for a place to stay every now and then other than the streets."

"You live on the streets! My dear, why? Where is your family?"

"Dead. My mother died when I was eight, my father was an alcohol addict, abusive, so I ran away. I've no one else."

"If you were so young, where did you go for so many years?"

"I spent some time near Rouen and in Persia. I've been here for about four years now," I sigh.

"You poor dear. Come with me. We've room in the Opera dormitories for one more and I believe the pit orchestra is looking for a new violinist. I'll talk with the managers and Monsieur Reyer about you performing and being given some sort of wages." She takes my hand and drags me towards the Opera Populair.

Once insisde, she leads me into the ballet dormitories. She leaves me in an empty room. "My daughter will tend to you and help get you settled."

After she leaves, a young woman with blonde hair steps in and says, "Bonjour, Mademoiselle. I am Meg Giry...Madame if my mother. Will you need anything?"

"No. I can manage should I need something...I'm not helpless you know," I reply.

"Of course. Au revoir and if you need something, do not hesitate to call for me." She curtsies and hurries away.

"Kiera," Madame Giry steps back into my room a while later. "Monsier Andre and Monsieur Firmin wish to speak with you immediately."

"Then I'll not keep them waiting." I stand and follow her down the many halls and corridors to a door that says above the frame, _Management_.

I knock. "Monsieurs?"

"You may come in, Mademoiselle Torque."

I step into the room to find two older gentlemen in their business suits. The shorter one has a roudned head with a grey mustache and funny little beard...his hair is all over the place, almost like he has been struck by lightning. It sticks out on every side. The other taller man has black mustache, no beard, and his hair is kept much neater than his business partner's.

The two take a step back at the sight of me. My abnormal features obviously shock them.

"Have you gentlmen seen something that scares you?" I ask, taking a seat infront of the desk.

"You don't look as we expected. Silver hair and black eyes...unusual."

"Well, not everyone can be as lucky as I, can they?" I say cooly.

"I suppose," the shorter man answers.

"Might I introduce myself and comrad?" I nod approval. "I am Richard Firmin, and this is Jean Andre," the taller of the two states.

"A pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin. I am Kiera Torque, and I believe, I am here to perhaps fill the empty chair of the orchestra for violin."

"Yes. However, we will let Monsier Reyer decide...he is our maestro." Almost as if it is planned, a man with a thin grey mustache steps into the room. "You sent for me, Monsieurs?"

"Aw, Monsieur Reyer, take a seat." Monsieur Andre motions to the chair beside me.

"Very well." Reyer, presumably, sits down and crosses his leg over the other. "What is this all about?"

"We may have solved our issue with an empty chair in the violin section." Monsieur Firmin gestures to me. "We have been told that she plays well and can fill the position for as long as need be."

"Her? A woman?" Reyer is very appalled. "How can a woman play violin?"

"Monsieur Reyer..."

"Monsieur, not only men can play an instrument. I am very capable of playing anything and everything you put before me! Shall I prove myself?"

"Go right ahead."

"Fine. Allow me to get my violin and I'll gladly play anything you like." I shoot from my chair and leave.

"Mademoiselle, meet us in the pit," Andre calls after me.

"Of course, Monsieur!" I do not look back as I storm down the hall to my room. I retrieve me violin case hurry to the orchestra pit where Reyer, Fimrin, Andre, and even Madame Giry are waiting.

"I hope you do not mind if my girls rehearse on stage while you play," Madame says, keeping an ever watchful eye on the young women moving back and forth across the stage in ballet slippers.

"Not at all, Madame." I open my case and pull out my violin and bow.

"Take a seat, Mademoiselle. The music I would like to hear is on the stand," Reyer says a bit impatiently.

"Hannibal," I read the title aloud. "A very good opera."

"Yes, yes, now play!" Reyer instructs hatefully.

I chuckle and put the instrument to my chin and pull the bow across the strings producing a beautiful note. I play through the entire first scene without stopping or making an error. I am quite good at sight reading...well, perhaps not sight reading. I've played this through once but never had the chance to study it much.

"Good enough for you, Monsieur?" I question, lying my instrument in my lap.

"That was very good, but no doubt you have played this before." He takes it away and puts down a piece of parchment with notes scribbled on the staff. "There is no possible way you could have played this...it is my own composition. We shall find just how good of a violinst you are as you play through this."

I roll my eyes and begin the piece. It is far too easy for me. Once I've completed this, I rest my instruemnt in my lap again and wait for what my listeners will say.

"Unbelievable!" Reyer exclaims. "How...what...you are spectacular! How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was old enoguh to sit up and hold the violin steady." I smile, brushing a loose strand of my silver hair behind my ear.

"Who was your teacher? He must have been a brilliant minded man."

"I had no teacher...I taught myself."

Reyer and the others stand dumbfounded. "Amazing!" Reyer shouts, clapping his hands together. "You are perfect."

"I'll take that as our que to add Mademoiselle Torque, here, to the payroll." Andre shakes my hand and walks back to the management office.

"Rehearsals are every day starting at ten a.m. I will see you then." Reyer hurries away excited over my talents.

"Welcome...let us hope that the O.G. takes kindly to your arrival. Afterall, we are performing his opera..._Don Juan Triumphant_. Truth be told, his violin parts are quite the nuisance...atleast that is what the other violinists have told us." He turns and leaves.

"_Don Juan Triumphant_..." I say to myself. "Sounds interesting...but who is O.G.?" I leave the room pondering this question.


	7. Chapter 7

_Kiera_

The first few rehearsals _Don Juan Triumphant_ are rough. The leading tenor, Piangi, can't decide on how to sing certain parts of Don Juan's duet with Aminta. On top of that, he is always arguing with the choreography. I can't blame him, someone as large and hideous as him and someone as small and lovely as Christine just don't go together. It looks disgusting for the two of them to be touching in such ways. If it weren't for such facts, the _Point of No Return _would be a very good scene. This O.G. gentleman is a wonderful composer and choreographer...a sure genius. Need I describe the brilliance of the the music...spectacular, stupendous, magnificent, miraculous...such words do not do it justice. The tri-chords that make up the first parts of it are eerie and mysterious...what I love to hear in music. It also provides some what of a challenge...something I rarely find.

Opening night and dressed in a long black dress, my silver hair pulled back in a bun, I take my seat in the orchestra pit. As I look around, while the audience poors in to view the newest opera, I notice that there are gendarmes stationed throughout the theater...in box five where the Vicomte de Chagney is seated (Miss Daae's fiance...she thinks that very few know but there isn't much that escapes my ears.) and also in the managers' box. They are also backstage and hidden behind the scenery. "They must be expecting unwelcomed company," I laugh to myself.

The opera starts with Carlotta and a band of gypsies singing the introduction...and singing it quite horribly, I might add. The chords produced by myself and the rest of the orchestra stun and confuse the audience...their ears are obviously new to such wickedly wonderous tones.

_In the silence of the damned,_

_Here the master takes his meat._

_Here the sacrificial lamb,_

_Utters one despairing bleat._

_Poor young maiden_

_For to thrill your tongue of stolen sweets,_

_You will have to pay the bill,_

_Tangled in the winding sheets._

_Serve the meal and serve the maid,_

_Where tables, plans, and maids are laid._

_Don Juan triumphs once again._

The chorus slips away to the side and points to the curtains that serve as a stage tent. From the thick red fabric dances Meg Giry, as a prostitute...fitting, I think. She prances past the fake fire made by wind and red and orange pieces of thin cloth cut into the shape of flames.

Now, the disgusting, piglike version of Don Juan steps forth and tosses her a bag of coins...payment for her "services". The other whores are busy with Passerino (and of course his midget friend).

"Passerino, faithful friend, once again recite the plan," Piangi sings pathetically.

"Your young guest believes I'm you...I am the master and you are the man."

For the most part I ignore the horrid vocals...as hard as that is. After Don Juan and Passerino exchange clothing, they gp their seperate ways...Passerino off-stage and Don Juan behind the curtains of the make-shift tent.

Aminta, played by Miss Daae, walks out holding a basket of roses, one of flowers is tangled in her messy, curled hair. "No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!" she sings with a good bit of skill. She's the only exceptional singer in this opera company...the rest are worthless and only here because they were all the ignorant managers could find. She sits down and begins to pick at a single rose she pulled from the basket.

Suddenly, at Don Juan's time to come forth and sing, there is a different voice:

_"Passerino..._

_Go away for the trap,_

_It is set and waits for its prey._

_You have come here,_

_In pursuit of your deepest urge,_

_In pursuit of that wish which til now has been silent..._

_Silent."_

He puts his index finger to his lips as he says the second 'silent', telling her to say nothing. Miss Daae turns to look at the man...he is much taller and a lot thinner, possibly muscular. It appears she knows his voice, she's surprised.

_"I have brought you,_

_That our passions may fuse and merge._

_In your mind you've already succombed to me,_

_Dropped alll defences, completely succombed to me._

_Now you are here with me,_

_No second thoughts._

_You've decided,_

_Decided..."_

Christine has begun to slip into some sort of trance caused by his outstanding voice. I can't blame her...his tenor voice is hauntingly mesmorizing.

_"Past the point of no return,_

_No backward glances._

_Our games of make believe are at an end._

_Past all thought of "if" or "when",_

_No use resisting._

_Abandon thought and let the dream descend._

_What raging fire shall burn the soul?"_

He comes up behind her and caresses her waist and appears to be smelling her hair. His left hand is around her throat as she leans her head back and closes her eyes. _This isn't part of the origianl choreographer. He's improvising, _I think as I continue to play the music by memory.

_"What sweet seduction lies before us?"_

He pulls away, running his hands down her arm. She stares at him, jaw dropped, still in her trance.

_"Past the point of no return,_

_The final threshold._

_What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?_

_Beyond the point of no return."_

She walks away from him as he lets her hand go and leans back, one foot flat on the ground, his weight on it. The toe of his other boot is raised in the air, pivotting on the heal.

_"You have brought me,_

_To that moment where words run dry,_

_To that moment when speech disappears into silence,_

_Silence..."_

Christine looks to Box Five and shakes her head. Just as she does so, Monsieur le Vicomte motions for the gendarmes in his box and outside to come forward. Monsieurs Andre and Firmin do the same. The new Don Juan, who rescued mine and the audience's ears from Piangi's wretched squawking, notices her gesture. He must be the one they are after.

_"I have come here,_

_Hardly knowing the reason why._

_In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining defenceless and silent."_

She rolls her eyes upward, under her own control now.

_"Now I am here with you,_

_No second thoughts._

_I've decided..._

_Decided..."_

She smiles, turning back to Don Juan and allowing the shoulders of her costume to fall, revealing her bare skin. Her fellow vocalist playing Don Juan takes a deep breath through his nose...apparently, she is tantalizing to him...she's tempting him.

_"Past the point of no return,_

_No going back now._

_Our passion play has now atlast begun._

_Past all thought of right or wrong,_

_One final question:_

_How long should we two wait before we're one?"_

The two have started their ascent up the wooden stairs set on either side of the stage. The one on Monsieur Reyer's left, Don Juan ascends, the one on his right, Aminta ascends.

_"When will the blood begin to race?_

_The sleeping bud burst into bloom?_

_When will the flames atlast consume us?"_

They are both at the top and begin to walk towards one another. Don Juan flings his cloak off as he moves closer to her. They sing:

_"Past the point of no return,_

_The final threshold._

_The bridge is crossed,_

_So stand and watch it burn."_

They clutch one another, and Don Juan whirls her around, locking his arms around her waist.

_"We've passed the point of no return."_

They stand with one another in silence for a moment as he carresses her waist again.

Everyone in the theater seems shocked...the ballet girls...hideous to behold...stare up curiously. Madame Giry looks up to them, her hand over her heart with her daughter at her side. The gendarmes simply stand, unemotional. However, the Vicomte stands from his seat, tears in his eyes.

_"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime._

_Lead me, save me from my solitude._

_Say you'll want me with you here, beside you._

_Anywhere you go let me go too!_

_Christine, that's all I ask of..."_

Before he finishes, the young diva tears off his mask revealing a deformity. Everyone screams in shock and horror, except for me. _I know that face...but can it be who I think it is?_

The man appears very angry and draws his sword, cuts a nearby rope and sends the chandeleir into a collission-course with the auditiorium floor. The audience members scramble as the man and Christine disappear down the center of the trap door in the stage.

"Mademoiselle Torque!" The horn player shouts, grabbing my arm. "Quickly! The chandeleir!" He pulls me from the pit and drags me into the streets as the Opera bursts into flames. "Are you all right?" he asks.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."

"Not at all. Now, where do you live? I'll escort you home."

"The Opera was my home. You can see that it is being burned. I've no where to go." I stare at the flaming building pondering the indentity of the mystery replacement Don Juan.

"Well, my wife and I can take you in for a while if you like, and if you don't mind a child running about."

"I don't mind children but with three of you to care for, I doubt you can support me too. I'll not be a burden to anyone," I say.

"It's no trouble, Mademoiselle Torque. My wife and I inheritted a fortune from her grandparents. Please, you helped the orchestra and now we will help you."

I sigh, "Only for a day or so. By then I am certain I'll have found an inn to stay at."

"Very good. This way, Mademoiselle Torque." He motions for me to follow.

"Please, call me Kiera. I don't particullarly like being addressed as Mademoiselle."

"Of course, Kiera." He sets out infront of me down the street.


	8. Chapter 8

_Kiera_

Matthew, the horn player from the opera Populair pit orchestra, and his wife were quite kind to me during my three days with them. Their son, Tristan treated with great curtesy and enjoyed sitting on the sofa as I played countless songs for him on the piano. I would have played my violin for him, but it was lost in the fire that destroyed most of the Opera. Today, though, I leave for my former home in the countryside...the very same place I was born, abused, and made a criminal.

"Kiera, must you go? I do not feel right allowing you to leave with the knowledge that you will be alone at that old house. What if someone should break in during the night? How will you defend yourself?" Matthew's wife rambles on nervously.

"I can hold my own, Madam. That, I can assure you of. My entire life I have depended on no one but myself. I believe I can handle the rest of my life doing the very same. I thank you for your deep concern, though." I uput my arms around her neck in a quick hug.

In return, she kisses each of my cheeks. "My prayers are with you, and call me by my name...Marie."

I turn from Madam, to her husband. "Matthew, it was an honor to play in the same orchestra with you. You have been a marvelous host, as your wife was a splendid hostess. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. I rarely meet nice peopel like you. Who knows? I might have died in that pit if you had not dragged me away. Thank you again."

"Not at all, Kiera. You are most welcome her any time you wish to visit, and please, do not hesitate to stop by if you are ever in town. Take care of yoruself, mon ami, and I'm terribly sorry about your violin..my horn was lost also. Frankly, though it is inanimate, it proved a good friend at all times. I'm certain your violin was the same. Perhaps you will stumble upon another one and be right back to your skillful playing." Matthew pats my shoulder and makes the same gesture as his wife.

Now I crouch to young Tristan's level. "Tristan, you are a fine upcoming musician. I expect that you will continue in your practicing until...until you have reached the level that you dream of reaching. I'm glad to have met such a sweet young man. You'll make a lucky woman very happy, one day."

"I'm going to miss you, Kiera." He throws his scrawny arms around my neck. "Can't you stay for a bit longer?" he pleads.

"I'm afraid not, little one. I've been a burden on your family for long enough."

"But you've only been here three days."

"Kiera, you have been no trouble at all. How can you say that?" Marie protests.

"Well, perhaps not to you, but that is how I feel. I've never needed someone else to keep me going and never will. Now, I must bid you all adieu. Take care." I depart from the family down the street to a nearby inn.

I pass through the doors of the old building and walk to the front desk. "Pardon me."

"Can I help you?" An elderly woman walks out from the back room, her eyes are droopy. She hasn't had much sleep, apparently.

"I would like to rent a room for a few days," I reply. The thought that I might have woken her bothers me to the point that I ask, "Madam, did I wake you?"

"Not at all, my dear. Why do you ask?" She sits down on a stool and begins to flip through a heap of jumbled, unorganized paperwork.

"You look as though you are in great need of rest. I was afraid that I had deprived you of such valuable sleep in my coming."

"No, no, no. It's quite all right, deary. I don't get much sleep even when I do get the chance to lie down. Sleep has allured me for quite a while. I'm used to it. Now, on the matter of your room...will you be the only one staying in the room?"

"Yes, Madam."

"Aww, a child with good manners. I'm pleased to finally meet someone like that. Will you be having any guests over...perhaps for a get-together?" she continues with her questions after complimenting my behavior.

"No, Madam. I have no friends and therefre will not be having anyone over."

"Very well." She opens a drawer and pull out a key. "This way, dear child. I believe you will find out best room to your liking, and even though I haven't had anyone here in quite a while, I won't charge any extra." She inserts the key into the lock of the room and pushes open the door. "It's not the prettiest in town, but it's the nicest I have here. I'll leave you to unpack your things and get settled, child."

"Thank you, Madam." As she leaves, I pull off my cloak and lie it over the dusty bed. This room has clearly not been occupied in a while. I walk about the humble apartment to find many exquisite carvings and moldings. _Back in it's days of granduer, this room must have been for royalty,_ I laugh to myself. It truly is magnificent. "With some sweeping, dusting, and a good mopping, this would look marvelous."

"Mademoiselle." The elderly woman knocks at the door.

"Yes, Madam?" I open the door to her.

"I was wondering if you would be coming to dinner downstairs."

"Of course. I never expected for a meal to be prepared here."

"Oh, my sweet, normally we would only cook for the residents in the room you are in who were high class. You, however, seem very down to earth. Though, I can see clearly you are more of an artist than a classly woman. It's good to meet another working woman in the world. That is why I gave you the royal suite. Please, Mademoiselle, I invite you to dinner. I rarely get a guests these days and I hate eating alone." She takes my pale hands in her cold, wrinkled ones, pleading with faded eyes.

"I'd be glad to dine with you, Madam. You are a most gracious woman. I'm afraid I'll have to wear my plain dress, though. I've no dinner clothes."

"That's fine, child. I eat in my housecoat a lot of the time. As long as you're covered appropriately, I don't care what you wear," she laughs and releases my hands.

"Then I shall be down in a moment." I smile at her, and when she releases my hand, I return to my room to wash my hands.

Once I have prepared myself a bit more, I return downstairs and find Madam waiting for me.

"This way, Kiera." She guides me to a large room with an enormous table that is spread elegantly. "What do you think?"

"Amazing! You did all of this just because I'm here?"

"Yes. I havent' had guests in a long time and I am very greatful for you. Now, sit down and enjoy the meal." She offers me a seat.

I sit down at the table and wait for her to sit and give the blessing, which she does. "You're such a well-mannered young woman. Might I ask where your parents are?"

"I...I rarely speak of them but..."

"Oh! I'm sorry if it's painful. I shouldn't have asked," she interrupts.

"No! No, it's quite all right. My mother was the only one who truly cared about me. Everyone else thought I was the most hideous thing they had ever laid eyes on. She died, however, when I was but a girl of eight years. After that, my father became violent with with me...beating me every chance he would get. I was rescued by an elderly woman who lived mearby. She took me in and cared for me for only a few months. My father killed her in a fit of rage in his search for me."

"And why was he looking for you?" she asks.

"He was going to kill me because I threw a rock at his fiance."

"That dreadful bloke. He should be ashamed of himself! Who in the world could want to hurt a beautiful girl like you?"

"I don't find myself beautiful, Madam. Most people think I have horrid features...straight, silver hair and coal back eyes.

"Is that what you call your eye color? I think it's lovely. I've a fondness for people who are unique and my dear, you certainly fit the definition of 'unique'," she laughs.

"Yes, I agree. Anyway, after I escaped my father's rage, I...he was found dead."

"Horrindous thing...got what he deserved," Madam mumbles.

"Then, I began to travel, playing my violin for coins in the streets. Once I even traveled to Persia and performed acrobatics for the sultaness. Of course, Persia is where I met my only friend...but I know nothing of him now. He's the one who forced me to leave," I explain, letting my mind wander back to the man on stage with Miss Daae.

"Why did he force you to leave, if you were friends?"

"Well.." I take a bit of the food on the plate infront of me. "The sultaness had sent me to make my friend come to the palace. I went to him but he refused and delayed. The same night, the sultaness' guards drug me to the palace by my hair and threw me into the torture chamber that my friend had built for the sultaness to cast people into...to watch them die a slow and agonizing death. Luckily, my friend came and rescued me, but the sultaness was angry with us both. She was going to have him killed and probably hand me over to the ravenous men who've not been with a woman in years. However, he bought me time to get away."

"Then he sent you away out of love..." she sighs.

"I wouldn't call it 'love', but..."

"Nonsense. Friends love one another though they do not ever mention it. It was out of love, Kiera...believe me. Now, let us eat."

We finish dinner in a short time, and I offer to help with the dirty dishes. "I'll wash mine, Madam."

"Oh, no, you won't!" she protests. "You are my guest and you are not to lift a finger."

"Please, Madam, allow me to as show of my gratitude for your kindness. Besides, it appears you could use some sleep. Go to bed, Madam. I'll handle the dishes and then I'll be off to my room." I take the plates from her hands and hurry her along to her own room.

"Kiera, child, I really think it's best if I do them. It's my job as your hostess," she whines.

"Perhaps, but it is my duty to assist you seeing you are an elder and I respect you," I argue. "Now, off to bed with you."

"Well...fine, Kiera, but please, don't put too much on yourself. You're still very young, but you may need that energy for another time in your life. Such as the first ngiht you spend in your husband's arms or the day you endure childbirth."

"Madam, I must say that I doubt any man would want a wife whose features are as hideous as mine, and without a husband, I certainly won't be mothering any children." I walk her to her room. "Goodnight, Madam," I say, closing the door after she bids me goodnight.

Once the dishes are clean and put away, and the table has been cleaned, I head off to my room to tidy it up a bit. "Madam is so sweet. I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to come here anymore," I sigh as I sweep the floors of the old room.

After I finish sweeping, I've acquired quite a large pile of dirt and trash. I lie a large can on it's side on the floor and sweep the pile into it. I place the lid on the can and put aside in a closet. My next step is to dust everything off. This takes quite a while, considering that with every few strokes I take across something, I need to wash the rag off. Having finished this, I mop the floors until they are clean and almost sparkling to my eyes. The next step is to wash the bathroom down. I scrub the tile, the tub, the sink...everything until the marble has returned to it's glistening beauty. Now it is time to wash the bed spread. After finishing this, I hang it on the rail of the balcony outside my room to let it dry.

Cleaning the room takes a great deal of the night but as I wake this morning and look over the room, it is worth everything. As the sun shines in, everything seems to glow. I sigh at the sight.

"Kiera! Kiera, child, I believe you ahve been in bed long enough. It's nine o'clock!" Madam shouts. "And I have some clothes that I think will suit you in my room. Do hurry!"

I laugh and crawl from bed. Stepping into the hall, I notice that Madam is laughing. "What is so funny, Madam? Do enlighten me, I've the need for a good laugh."

"Come to my room, Kiera. Your hair is a mess," she chuckles.

"Good heavens!" I exclaim in embarrassment as I notice the rat nest surmounting my head in the glass of a nearby window.

"It's all right, Kiera. I'll pull it back in a bun for you." She takes my hand and guides me to her room. "Sit in this chair, dear."

I sit down and close my eyes as she begins to brush my hair. "That feels wonderful. Just like when my mother would brush my hair."

"Well, I've had a good bit of experience, Kiera. I have three daughters...all married, of course, now, with children of their own. I don't see them often, though."

"Why? Do they live out of town?" I inquire.

"No. They...they just don't like coming by to see their Maman anymore. Their embarrassed by this old place. Believe it or not, this little inn was once the most decorated and beautiful of them all. Kings, queens, and other nobility would always stay here instead of the many other places they could choose from. But, when my husband died, I let it go down hill. I missed my Gaston far too much to keep our little business going. Soon, my daughters stopped coming to visit me every day and eventually, all together. Honestly, it makes me feel good to brush your hair like you are a child. It makes me feel young and loved." She puts the brush down and begins to wrap my hair in a bun.

"I'm sure you were an excellent mother."

"Yes." She holds a mirror infront of me and allows me to look at my hair. "What do you think? Can this old bird still fix a young woman's hair, or can't she?"

"It looks marvelous...much better than when I do such myself. Thank you." I stand kiss her cheek. Realizing my response, I back away, my cheeks flushed red. "I'm sorry. It's just your remind me of Madam Bardoix...the ladt who took me in and saved me from my father. I used to kiss her everytime she fixed my hair." I choke back tears as I think of the many memories I have of her.

"Oh, my dear, Kiera." She wraps her arms around me and strokes the back of my head.

Though, this gesture only brings more memories and atlast, I break down into tears. She tries to confort me by singing softly...her voice seems to calm me somehow. She rocks me back and forth in her arms. "Hush, now. It's all right, Kiera," she whispers softly.

I cling to her and allow the tears that I've held back for so many years to fow. Everything comes to mind: my mother's death, the beatings I took from my father, the years that I laid on the forest floor alone, the days when all I wanted was for someone to love me, Madam Bardoix's untimely passing, and the time when all I did was lie around wondering where Erik was and if he was all right.

We stay where we are for half an hour or so before I finally calm down. "Kiera," she says. "Child, are you better now?"

I nod and pull myself to my feet. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and compose myself. "Thank you."

"No at all, dear. It seems to me that you are quite an emotional wreck. Have you not cried in a long while?" She walks to her closet.

"I'm afraid that for years I've held back my tears because...well...I let music show the way I felt."

"Music?" She reappears with a mound of clothes in her arms. "You're a musician?"

"Yes. Before the Opera burned, I played my violin in the pit orchestra."

"I don't see any violin...didn't you bring it with you?" She hands a bright blue dress to me. "Try that on...I think it will fit you."

"Very well." I walk behind the screen to change. "My violin was lost in the fire, I'm afraid." I appear from behind the screen in the dress.

"You look lovely!" she gasps.

"Thank you, but, don't think me rude or ungrateful, I prefer the dark colored dresses."

"I thought you might considering that you're wearing the same black dress you wore when you came in yesterday afternoon. I believe I have a midnight blue dress here somewhere." She begins to rumage through the heap of clothing. "Here it is." She hands it to me.

"Thank you." I step behind the screen again and change out of teh bright blue into the dark. As I step out, she says, "You know, I believe you look better in light colors than dark. You're skin is so pale that it stands out more than it does in light colors. However, you have a lovely face, and I suppose that drawing attention to your face would bring men's eyes up to eye level instead of breast level." She laughs slightly. "You understand what I mean."

"Yes, Madam." I look at myself in the mirror "I like this dress." It is a bit tight fitting from the neck down, but it billows out some as it goes down. About three inches drags the ground in the front...at the back, atleast a foot drags behind me in a train. The sleeves hang from my shoulders helplessly.

"These gloves go with it, my dear." Madam hands me a pair of white gloves. "As does this shawl."

I put them on and stand infront of the mirror. "I believe this is what you'd consider a party dress."

"Yes, and it looks wonderful on you. Shall we try on another?"

"If you like."

"I think you'll like this dark green." She hands a plain green dress to me. "It's simple but elegant, in my opinion."

"I adore simple dresses, Madam. I'm sure I'll like this one, too." I once again hdie behind the screen and change into the dress. This one is long-sleeved and just touches the floor. "I do believe this one is my favorite," I laugh, stepping into view again.

"This belt goes around your waist, Kiera."

I take the wide piece of cloth and tie it at my side. I sags off a bit but Madam assures me that it is supposed to be that way. "It's gorgous. I love it! You have my thanks."

"Your very welcome. It isn't the style of today but I think it suits you. You may keep them. My daughters never liked them but I thought they were lovely." She hands the many garments to me and sends me to put them away.


	9. Chapter 9

_Kiera_

I've stayed with Madame Sandria for two weeks now. I would have left after only a few days, but I felt sorry for her and soon grew attached to the sweet old woman. She had begged me not go..to stay with her.

"I miss my daughters terribly...there is some sort of void in my life that has suddenly been filled with your arrival. Please, Kiera, dear child, do not make me go back to being consumed by the retched emptiness," she has pleaded with me. "You are like a daughter to me!"

"Madam, I have experienced the kindness you show towards me by another older woman, as yourself. However, I'm afraid that when I came, my curse came also. My father killed her. I do not want that to happen to you."

"Kiera, surely your father is dead by now?"

"Yes, he is, but with my luck, something just as bad could come to you. I've grown to care for you but attachment bodes ill for me and anyone I care for. I must go."

"Kiera, you don't understand, I love you like my own child. Until you have married a good man who I know will take care of you and respect you as much as I, you'll not go! I'll tie you to your bed if I must! Don't go!" she cried, clinging to me like a child.

"Madame Sandria, I...I..." I smiled, looking down at her. She was dear to me now. "I'll stay, Madam, but I will have to give you fair warning, I haven't the momey to pay for my room anymore."

"Oh, Kiera, child, you've no need to pay me. You are staying here as a manager and part owner. This place has grown quite lovely thanks to your help. Perhaps it will attract customers with you overseeing it's cleaning and repairs."

"I thank you. Now, shall we get some of the other rooms in tip-top shape?" I asked and knew her answer by the grin she displayed on her wrinkled face.

"Madame Sandria," I call to her from the very last of the rooms we are cleaning.

"Yes, Kiera?" she returns from down the hall.

"What will you have me do with the old luggage that has been left here?" I inquire.

"Well...put it in the backroom downstairs if you can carry it. We'll sort through the contents after dinner and decide how to further deal with it."

"Yes, Madam." I carry the three suit cases down stairs one-by-one and lock them away as instructed. Then I go back to cleaning the last room.

Once all the rooms look "better than they have in decades", Madam Sandria enters my room and says, "Kiera, you do realize that if we have guests, you'll probably have to give up this room?"

"Yes, and I will be sad to let it go. Where will I sleep, Madam?" I sit down on the soft down matress and absorb the little bliss I feel.

"Umm...well...I don't know. I haven't any other rooms, other than the attic and basement. I'm sorry, Kiera. You may have to find lodgings elsewhere." She sighs.

"What?" I shoot up from the bed. "Madam, how can you hire me, get me to do all of this work, and then not pay me as you have promised? Did you merely say those things to get me to stay long enough to help you whip your miserable little hut into it's best shape so you could make some money? Is that it? If so, you've much to learn about me still, Madam! I am not the type of woman to take kindly to such indecentsy!"

"Kiera, it isn't that. Just think, do you really want to stay here with guests who have crying children to keep you awake at night? I am old and can hardly hear such, but you...you're hearing is very good, and the noise would keep you awake. I only want the best for you." She touches my cheek.

"Madam, I cannot help but be angry with you. I should have left long ago! I knew true friends didn't exist, and yet, when I met you, I thought otherwise. However, that little comment of yours has forced me to pull out my old saying. Goodbye, Madam Sandria."

"Kiera!" she yells after me as I storm from the building in a fit of rage. "Kiera, please, wait!"

"I'll be back later for my things! Don't do anything to them. If you do, there shall be grave consequences." I continue my path down the street, not stopping until I arrive outside of the scorched Opera Polulaire.

I stand in awe at the sight. Merely weeks ago it was at the height of its season and in wonderful condition, glory surrounding it like God himself had created it, but now...Now it is a ruin. It is a shadow of its former self. The red brick walls are now blackened stones holding in the innards. The pillars...cracked and chipped...they are the broken bones that gave this once marvelous structure its form. The windows...painted, opaque, or clear...wondrous to behold with their different shapes and sizes...reduced to only the remnant of the frame and small puddles of shattered glass in the streets and alleys surrounding it. The Opera Populair has seen much better times than this.

"I wonder what is left of the orchestra pit?" I ask myself aloud and venture to the stables where I enter unseen into the ballet dormitories that I was once housed in.

I walk past many doors but open none due to the abscence of doorknobs and for fear of rubble impailing me if I were to enter. I touch the walls and run my fingers down them, closing my eyes and imagining what the halls looked like before this.

Eventually, I find my way back to the orchestra pit, having been forced to take several detours due many fallen beams. I carefully ease down the steps leading itno the pit where the chandelier now sits on top of my old chair...nothing appears to remain of my violin; although, I'm quite certain that even if the wood had completely burned, the strings should still be here. Alas, I do not find them and leave the pit, mourning the loss of my first friend.

I wander to the stage and stand at its center, recalling the last performance...and the tragedy. The bridge is nothing but a few measly boards standing at the back of the stage and the fabric from the fake fire is black and withered. Humming the melody, I try to remember the lyrics.

_Past the point of no return,_

_No going back now._

_Our passion play has now atlast begun._

_Past all thought of "if' ir "when"..._

_**No, no! That's wrong. All thought of "if" or "when" is Don Juan's part.**_

_Past all thought of right or wrong,_

_One final question:_

_How long should we two wait before we're one?_

_When will the flood begin to raise..._

_**No! It isn't flood! Flood makes sense but it seems inappropriate for this songs purpose.**_

_When will the blood begin to raise,_

_the sleeping bud burst into blume?_

_When will the flames atalst consume us?_

_**Yes! That's it!**_

As I complete this stanza, I hear a soft melody swirl about me. It is a sad tune and I am drawn to it. I find myself wanting to search out this song and discover who is responsible for it.

I slip to the hole in the stage and stare down. The music seems to be coming from the catacombs. "Well, I've never been very far into the catacombs. I suppose I could use an adventure." I laugh quietly and search for a rope that is strong enough to bear my weight. Once this is accomplished, I throw it down the hole after tying one end to a fallen beam that is still able to support so much tension.

I climb down slowly and carefully, eyeing my surroundings warily as they change. I reach the bottom; it is as dreary and empty as the above stage and theater. Well, it's not quite as empty as I discover my unwelcomed company..._bloody rodents_. I manuever through the swarms I some times encounter and thank God they aren't attacking me. In fact, they don't seem to recognize my presence. They seem clueless that I am trudging my way around them. To them, I suppose, I'm nothing but a shadow; afterall, in my long black dress, my body blends in very well with the scenery.

I creep silently down the corridors of the catacombs, finding my way from level to level, following the entrancingly mysterious music. All of the halls appear the same, which makes my task hard, but my hearing is keen and keeps me going in the right direction...I presume. "I must find the source of this melody," I say to myself as I near a black underground lake.

I soon find myself at the water's edge and begin to look about for any way to cross or go around. Shortly, I have sorted my few options. I can either swim across or use the row boat...either way is risky. I decide that, for now, the boat is my best chance of getting to the other side. I push it into the water and step in before the dark water wets my shoes and dress. Grasping the oars firmly in each hand, I take a deep breath, mutter a quick prayer of grace, and begin to gude the rickety little vessel towards the lake's opposing side.

The music continues to float through the air until I am within view of the shore and a large silhouette. _What could that be?_ I at last make it to shore and manage to keep from getting wet. By now, the music has ceased...for one reason or another...and I have nothing to follow. Finding my way is much more difficult now.

A tall silhouette dashes from one shadow to another, a thin object dangling from the black hand. From what Erik taught me in Persia, I instinctively raise my hand to the level of my eyes. Soon after this, a noose slips around my neck, but I catch it and pull it away as my attacker tries to tighten it around my neck. The forceful tug pulls me down; however, I keep my hand up to prevent the lasso from strangling me. My enemy reveals himself, basically sitting on me, and tries to move my hand...to no avail, thank God. _I will not die like this!_

"Get off me!" I shout, hitting him where it counts, causing him to fall backwards in agony. As he falls, the rope is released freely into the floor, and I snatch it up eagerly.

He staggers to his feet, having clearly been unprepared for such a counter attack, and tries to prepare himself to fight back.

"Enough. I will kill you if I must, but I shall give you the opportunity to stand down so that I can explain the intrusion," I say sternly, preparing the fling the lasso _where _necessary.

The figure is unchanging.

"Very well, Monsieur. Need I hit your weak point?"

"Toss the lasso aside, and I will stand down but not until then," a familiar voice says.

"Come closer. I want to see your face."

"I'm not that ignorant, Mademoiselle. After your gesture a moment ago, I don't believe I will come near you," he huffs, a bit of pain still audible in his voice.

"Erik? Is that you?" I ask, loosening my grip on the cat gut and relaxing a bit.

"How do you know my name?" he inquires, relaxing aswell.

"We met a long time ago...in Persia. You performed your magic for the sultaness and I, my acrobatics. She forced you to build her a torture chamber and then placed me in it because you didn't come to the palace as ordered. She sent me to inform you and automatically labeled me a traitor," I explain.

"No one knows of my time in Persia except..." he mumbles to himself.

"You came to my aid and set me free. You told me to go to France, England, Germany, anywhere...but I should not to remain in Persia," I continue.

"Kiera is the only one who knows such." He moves closer, on his guard, of course, to avoid another blow. I stand still and let him investigate my features. "Silver hair...eyes as black as night...ghostly pale skin." His gorgeous blue-green eyes stare into mine. "Kiera Torque?"

"Yes, mon ami. I'm glad you still remember my name," I laugh.

"You were my one friend while in Persia. I trusted you over that damned daroga, Nadir."

"It's good to see you again, Erik. I haven't seen a familiar face in years, it seems." I embrace him briefly.

"It's been...what? Four years?" He removes himself from my arms.

"Or atleast close to it."

"Good God, it's been nearly an eternity. Come inside. We've much catching up to do, mon ami." He places one hand on my back and guides me into a dark house further up the shore.

He leads me into the house and into a small den, after taking my cloak. The furnishings are few but lavish. A sofa with black fabric, made with the mahogeney wood. It is beautiful. An arm chair occupies a space near the fire place, facing the empty place at an angle. "Sit," he says.

I take a seat on the sofa as he sits down in the chair, turning it towards me. "I'm sorry for earlier, Erik. I didn't know you were here? Though, I can't guarantee that I would not do such despite. "

He sighs and laughs. "No harm done..." He hesitates. "Well, I'm a bit sore now, it's all right. I forgive you. What you did was out of self-defense."

I smile. "So, how long have you been down here, Erik?" I question.

He sighs. "Ever since I got away from the pesky little sultaness. So, it's been around four years."

"Care to tell me what you've been doing all these years?" I brush a few specks of dirt from my black skirt.

"To be honest, I don't like discussing it, but seeing you are my most trusted friend, I will tell you. When I arrived, I heard a teenage girl crying in the ballet dormitories. Before she came to live here, she had lived with her father, a Swedish violinist, but he died while she was young. I took pity on the beautiful girl and allowed her to believe that I was the Angel of Music that her father promised would protect her. I taught her to sinf from her room; I wanted her to replace the horrid La Carlotta. She progressed wondrously and soon I found a way to give her the chance to prove herself. Other details I refuse to explain; although, I'll say that I loved her;however, she betrayed me by flouncing off with the Vicomte de Chagney."

"Then it was you on the stage that night! You were the replacement Don Juan. You cut down the chandelier." I suddenly remember my violin. "And you are the reason that my violin was lost in the flames," I say, gritting my teeth.

"Your violin?" He stares at me curiously. "What were you doing here with your violin?"

"The managers hired me to play first violin in the pit for _Don Juan Triumphant._ When you dropped the chandelier into the pit, Matthew dragged me away, forcing me to leave my violin. That violin was handmade and precious to me, Erik." I sigh, and look away.

"Then that was your violin I found. Kiera, it isn't gone." He laughs.

"I have it here. I went back to the pit a while ago and found it lying a short distance from the chandelier. It wasn't too damaged, so I brought it back here for repair."

"You did?!" I exclaim excitedly.

"Yes." He gets up and disappears into another room. When he returns, he carries in his hands my violin and bow. "Here you are." He holds it out to me.

I take it from him and putting it to my chin, pull the bow across the strings. It sounds as wonderful as it did the last time I played it in the pit. "Thank you, Erik. You're still as talented as ever, I can see."

He smiles and retakes his seat. "So, you've heard plenty about me. Allow me to ask you a few questions?" I nod approval. "What have you been doing since you left Persia?"

"Wandering around France, playing my violin in the streets for money. After I came to Paris, I met Madame Giry, who brought me to the Opera. The managers spoke a moment with me, then I played for Reyer until he was certain I could play anything put in front of me, and finally gave me the job. I played for your opera, and when you ended it abruptly, Matthew housed me for three days. I then went to stay with Madame Sandria at her inn. I've been there for two weeks, but we got into an argument. That is why I came here. Life has been quite a bore lately."

"Well, no matter, it's good to see you again, Kiera. Now, care for a cup of tea?" He stands up yet again.

"I suppose, if it isn't too much trouble. If you show me the way I around, I'll get it myself."

"No. You'll do nothing of the sort. I'll handle things." He heads for another room.

"You're still quite the gentleman...atleast around me," I laugh.

"Yes, and you are still the pesky teenager who likes to do everything herself." He vanishes in the dark room. "Make yourself at home, my friend."

"Thank you, Erik." After placing my violin carefully on the sofa, I wander about the den, investigating all the strange little trinkets that I have found on shelves. All appear to be incomplete so I leave them be and don't bother to ask what they are or are supposed to do.

I move on to the nearby doors. The first room I step into is the room Erik had brought my violin from. It appears to be some sort of musicroom. A piano occupies one corner of the room, a music stand with sheet music on it occupies another, and a desk piled high with blank and ink blotted staff paper in the next. I enter a small closet where I find more instruements: Erik's familair violin, a silver flute, a gold trumpet, a clarinet, and many other instruments. "This would be the way my musicroom would look if I had one," I sigh.

Leaving this room, I enter the next. It is much darker than the other. I step through the doorway cautiously, fearful of what might be in here. I take every step with uncertainty. As the door becomes smaller and smaller behind me, the room grows ever darker, like a never ending abyss. I bump in to something large. "What is this?" I feel about, searching for an oil lamp or a candle. At last my fingers find what feels like an oil lamp. I pick it up and begin searching for matches, which I find nearby. _Thank God for my fair vision at night._ I manage to strike one and light the lamp. The lamp creates little light...barely enough to allow me to see what is before me...**a coffin**. I back away in terror. "What in the world is this doing here?!" As I recoil, I run into something else..something warm and tall.

"What do you think you are doing in here, Kiera?" Erik's voice questions.

I turn about and stare up at the partially covered face, his eyes flickering with anger, but his voice calm. "Erik, why is there a coffin in this room? Are you planning on burying someone? Pray not me."

"I didn't give you permission to enter any of these rooms," he says.

"Perhaps, but you never restricted me from entering, either," I return.

"Your arrogance could easily find a noose for your neck. I don't often tolerate such...you're lucky."

"Please, Erik, I'm not particularly afraid of you. Atleast now that I know you have the same weakness as other men...well, other men who haven't been castrated." I laugh, walking past him into the light of the den.

He gives a huff and follows after me. He pushes past and picks up a tray with two cups on it. "Tea."

"Merci, mon ami." I take a cup and sip it. "This is marvelous. The same brew we drank in Persia, isn't it?"

"Indeed." He gestures to the sofa again. "Sit down."

I retake the seat, after moving my violin, and sip the steaming tea quietly.

Erik sets his cup aside on a little table and asks, "May I play your violin?"

"Why?" I inquire. "Will you smash it to bits because I entered the room?"

"No, Kiera."

"Very well. However, you must answer a question for me first."

"Proceed." He folds his arms across his chest and leans back in the chair.

"Why exactly is that coffin in there? No lies."

"Kiera, my friend, as we go through life we are preparing ourselves for the future, and that is precisely what I am doing."

"Then you mean to say that you sleep in that thing?" He just stares at me. "Erik, that is ignorant. It isn't as if you are going to be aware of where you are when you die."

"Yes, I will," he retorts.

"Do explain 'how'."

"I plan to drag myself to that coffin when my time is near and lie there until Death graces my miserable, worthless life with his presence."

"For heaven's sake, Erik. Have you completely lost your mind?"

"You asked me to answer but one question, and I will answer no more. It's time to hold up your end of this deal."

"Fine." I hand him the violin with my free hand.

"Thank you." He puts it to his neck and begins to play a slow, melodic tune that floats about the room.

My ears are spoiled by this song and I soon begin to sway to it as I had in Persia four years ago. After a moment, I am completely entranced...my eyes closed but my ears open as the tune flows through them. I cannot resist such beautifully powerful music.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Erik, POTO ( I wish I did), Andre, Firmin, Raoul, Christine, Madame Giry, Meg, Reyer, Carlotta, or Piangi, or the original lyrics to the song in this chapter...atleast the original parts that are from No One Would Listen. Kiera, though, is mine. As is Madam Sandria, Madam Bardoix, Marie Torque, and Jacque Torque! They are shmine so no stealing! Also, Erik uses some humor in this that is way ABNORMAL! So, don't pitch a fit. It's only for the purpose of the story! 'Kay, that's all!Oh, and what is in paraentheses at the end is the translations for the French used in the conversations. I just thought I'd add in a little, since this in France.**

_Kiera_

"Kiera," a voice calls to me. "Kiera, wake up."

I open my eyes to find the room completely dark. Not even the faint glow of a hot coal in the fire place is visable. Looking up, I find Erik hovering over me with a dull visage. His tall, shadowy figure is intimidating, as always and I am slow to get up for fear of angering him with my movement. Well, it's not as much fear as it is an unbelievable amount of respect. Rising to my feet, I notice that my violin is in its same old case, and my tea cup has been removed. "Erik, how long has it been since I fell under your spell?" I ask.

"Spell?" He raises a brow and stares at me.

"Yes. When you play, it as though you are putting a spell on me. As a musician, I'd hoped I would be immune to your powers, but it appears that I've not reached that yet."

"But still, my friend, a spell? Surely you could come up with a synonym for it," he continues.

"Oh, stop your complaining and answer my question."

He shakes his head and pulls out his pocket watch. "It's nine o'clock. You've been here for five hours," he answers, dropping the watch into his pocket again.

"Nine o'clock!" I exclaim. "Madam Sandria will be worried sick!" I hurry to the door.

"Are you so eager to return after she was going to make you find elsewhere to live? You truly have lost your mind." He follows behind me to the affect of my shadow. "And..since when have you started growing attached to people? The last time you and I spoke, you weren't one for getting close to anyone for fear of hurting them. Or perhaps the other way around."

"Erik, she has been kinder to me than anyone I've ever known, and I've known very few people."

He begins to chuckle softly just as I finish this statement.

"Erik! You sick-minded man!" I exclaim. "Not in the biblical sense! Your humor is disgusting!"

"Oh, calm down. I was only joking. I know precisely what you mean." All is quiet for a moment. "But you must admit that it was quite funny."

"Yes. It was rather entertaining. You certainly still are the same man I befriended in Persia those years ago, but you have acquired a different sense of humor."

"Indeed. Now, since you are in such a rush to get back to _Madam Sandria_, I'll escort you back to the surface." He hands my cloak to me and pulls on his own.

We exit the house and climb into the little row boat still waiting at the lake's shore. He pushes it into the water and rows. It is silent for a while but a song pops into my head, and I begin to hum it. Erik looks at me curiously and says, "That is the tune to the song I was playing before you arrived. How do you know it?"

"Your song is how I found my way down here," I reply. "I came into the Opera to explore and see what was left of my violin. I heard your song while in the theater and decided to find the person responsible. I wandered through the catacombs and _voila_! I find you, of all people."

"You've very good hearing, then."

"Aren't musicians supposed to?"

"I suppose." He hums it along with me, but it is in a lower octave.

Soon, I begin to add lyrics to it:

_"Locked in my solitude,_

_Hid from the multitude,_

_No one would love me._

_All alone with just my music._

_Turned to a runaway,_

_Running both night and day,_

_No one would love me._

_In the dark, I played sweet music._

_Then atlast, a song from the gloom,_

_Seemed to cry I hear you._

_You share my fears,_

_My torment and my tears._

_He felt the same as I,_

_Knew all their tricks and lies._

_No one would love me._

_Just that one man, could be someone like me._

_No one would love me._

_Just this one man, could be someone like me."_

The boat stops in the middle of the lake, the dark water growing still. "The person you sang of was yourself." Erik puts down the oars. "Why?"

"I sing what I feel. Those words are exactly my feelings."

"And this man you spoke of...who is he? Someone you met before our friendship or after our seperation?" he inquires.

"You know him, my friend," I answer. "You know him very well. He is my only friend in this world, besides my music."

"No, Mademoiselle. I don't know him."

"Then ponder my words as we continue. Perhaps you will discover his indentity." I sigh and dip my fingers in the black water, watching the ripples expand until they disappear.

My finger tips begin to drag across the water's surface as the boat starts moving again.

"I'd be careful, if I were you. The siren doesn't take kindly to beautiful women contaminating her domain and degrading her own beauty," Erik warns.

"Siren?" I remove my hand from the water. "There is one in this lake?" I stare at him, unbelieving. "You realize I no longer believe in sirens, don't you?"

"Yes, I know, and that is precisely why you will fall victim to her jealousy if you do not do as I say."

"Did you say she would be jealous? Of who? Me?" I question, awe-stricken.

He nods. "She will be very jealous of your beauty and your uniqueness. I highly doubt that there is another in the world like you."

"I'm not beautiful, Erik...not even average. That I know." I look down and begin to play with my fingers.

"Kiera, I, of all people, should know what true beauty is, seeing that all of my life I have been searching for just that. You may be different but you truely are one of the brightest flowers in the boquet," he assures me.

"Enough, Erik! I will not allow you to continue teasing me! Just take me back to the surface!" I snap.

"As you wish."

The rest of the journey is as quiet as death. Neither I nor Erik say anything. "Here you are, Kiera." Erik opens the door to an alley entrance. "Follow the alley and you will soon be in main streets. Au revoir, mon cherie."

"Au revoir, mon ami," I say as he closes the door behind me.

I walk back to the inn slowly, paying no mind to the shadows and sounds of night in Paris. I drag my feet and only think about what Erik said. _She will be jealous of your beauty and uniqueness. You may be different but you truely are one of the brightest flowers in the boquet._

"Ou avez-vous ete, Kiera?" Madam Sandria exclaims as I enter the building.

(Where have you been, Kiera?)

"Bonsoir, Madame. "

(Good evening, Madam)

"Etes-vous tout droit?" she continues.

(Are you all right?)

"Tres fatigue, Madame. Bonne nuit." I turn away and go to my room.

(Very tired, Madam. Goodnight.)

She follows after me but I close my door before she reaches my room. "Kiera? Ou avez-vous ete, doux?"

(Kiera? Where have you been, really?)

"Madam, I don't want to discuss this. Please, I need some sleep and time to think."

"Very well. Bonsoir, ma petite."

"Bonsoir." I pause as I hear her footfalls. "Madam!"

"Yes?" The footsteps cease.

"Merci."

"Vous etes bienvenu," she answers. The footfalls start again, soon distancing and finally disappearing.

(You are welcome.)


	11. Chapter 11

_Erik_

I watch through a hole in the wall as Kiera walks away. Her feet are dragging, her head hanging low as though it is a pear dangling from the scrawny branch of a young tree. Curious creatures...women...so prone to mood swing and changes of thought. Once they set their mind on a certain topic, there isn't the slightest chance of changing it. At least, it won't change without the proper persuasion. For most lower class mademoiselles like Kiera, it is a night with a very wealthy gentleman. Others simply want a man to have his way with them, making them feel wanted for brief time.

After Kiera disappears into the darkness, I return home, the lyrics she invented to for my song still lingering in my mind, Her voice seems to echo in my mind, as well as in the catacombs. The way her gentle, yet lonely, voice revirberates off the ceiling and walls is haunting. For a time, I believe I am simply recalling the song from earlier, but as I listen, there is a slight difference. This voice is shriller and contains a slight bit of wickedness. Kiera's true voice is sweet and smooth. _The siren,_ my mind says. Lauretta, the devilish lake resident, continues copying Kiera's voice as I pull the boat ashore; I ignore her for a time.

"Erik..." she calls. "Come hold me, Erik. I love you."

"Your teasing will not work on me, Lauretta. Let me be."

She laughs. "Of course I'm teasing you. What girl in her right mind would love you?"

"How do you know that?" I snap.

"Oh, calm yourself! Besides, that Kiera is a hideous sight to behold. Surely you have better taste in women than that! Anyway, I've got the right mind to drown her the next time she dares cross my lake."

"Stop insulting her!" I shout. "She certainly surpasses you in beauty!"

She chuckles. "You're falling in love with her."

"What, my water dwelling pest, would you know of love?"

"Very little. However, if you were not falling for that little misshapen wretch, why would you stand up for her when I mock her?"

"Kiera is a friend...a close friend of many years. That's all...nothing more." I unlock my door and grasp the knob. "Return to your dark world without further taunting of Kiera, and I will return to mine."

"You are not my lord, my master, or my father! You've no right to tell me what to do!" The splashing behind me indicates that she has left the water and is on shore. "You can't hurt me, Erik; I'm too quick, and your silly cat-gut lasso has no power in the water!"

I finger the lasso on my belt, debating on whether or not to try to capture Lauretta. True, my noose is powerless against the water, but as of late, no creature has been able to move quick enough to escape it on land. "I will give you one last chance to go before resorting to violence," I say, gritting my teeth.

"Erik, Erik, Erik...didn't you learn when you were a boy that you cannot kill the being who has been like a your mother? I brought food to you while you errected this house; I brought you the materials to use when you were too preoccupied to go yourself; I brought you the first real outfit you wore when you arrived down here. Erik, I have guarded these waters and done away with any soul brave or ignorant enough to attempt to cross, saving you the trouble." She sighs.

"I never asked for anything you gave me, and I didn't need your help to begin with. I am a survivor; I need no one, and I have no motherly figure." I press a button on the door knob, releasing a large cage from the raftor.

It falls, ensnaring Lauretta in an iron prison. "What? What is the meaning of this?" she demands, angrily shaking the cage, pulling on the iron bars with all of her might but to no prevail.

"Now, what was that about you being too quick? I'll answer for you; you said that I couldn't hurt you and you move too quickly for me to catch. Care to correct your statement, considering the presented evidence?" I stare at her through the bars, a smirk occupying my lips.

She glares at me through black marbles and screams, "Release me! Remove this cage at once, Erik!"

"I think you deserve a little time solitary confinement. Bonsoir, Lauretta." I turn away and enter my home, theabnormal grin spread across my face.

"Erik! Erik, you bastard, let me out or you'll not sleep a wink!" she threatens.

I chuckle at her pitiful attempt to frighten me into releasing her. I don't sleep much as it is; a sleepless night is nothing new to me. I step into the den, finding it more lonesome than it normally is. Kierea's violin rests in its case where she left it on the sofa. Sitting down in my chair, gazing across the room, my mind wanders back to the time Kiera and I spent talking about our travels. It seems deathly quiet (not that that wasn't the norm before); I long for her presence..those dark eyes full of loneliness searching my soul for answers to unspoken questions; her glossy, silver hair flowing down past her shoulders, glistening like the chrystals of the now ruined chandelier in the flickering fire light, dancing about the room, casting new shadows where none had been before.

Despite the fact that I denied it, I begin to wonder if, perhaps, I _**am**_ falling in love with my dear friend, the only person I've met who has any idea what my life was and is like. However, my mind screams, _Have you completely lost your sanity? You know what love can do to you! You cannot love her! No! Absolutely not!_

_But, maybe what he felt for Christine wasn't love. Perhaps lust...yes, lust was the culprit for that. Kiera truly understands him and can easily indentify with his torment,_ my heart argues.

_No, she can't! The only_ _thing wrong with her is her black eyes, silver hair, and she is much taller than most women. You have a __**true**__ deformity; you must wear a mask, but she doesn't. She isn't tortured by eyes of disgust burning into her soul like you. She lives in a hotel with a sweet elderly woman while you live all alone, five stories below ground, _my mind continues.

_But she __**has**__ lived all alone in the woods. She __**was**__ beaten by her father. She __**has**__ killed a man; she __**has**__ wandered to other countriexin search of a better life. She __**is**__ a talented __**musician **__and __**singer**__. Besides, how do we know she doesn't have to suffer the feeling of burning eyes glaring at her? We've never seen her walk down the streets in the company of normal citizens, _my heart persists.

_Well, do you think she looks abnormal?_

_No, but to him, she is beautiful because he feels the way she does. She doesn't think he's hideous...that you can tell by the way she looks at him. There is no fear or disgust in those eyes. However, just because he thinks she's lovely doesn't mean others think the same._

"Stop!" I shout, burying my face in the palms of my hands. I've heard enough of this insane internal conversation.

"Arguing with yourself, are we, Erik?" Lauretta's voice pierces the silence after my outburst. "How sad!" Her maniacal laughter echos in my home and head.

"Silence, you horrid beast!" I order, jumping to my feet.

"I may be, but at least I'm not the only one!" Again, her laughter bursts into existance.

I fly to he door and out ot the cage, my lasso ready. "I've heard quite enough out of you!" I burst through the door of the prison and toss the noose around her neck. I tighten its hold and smother her screams as she thrashes about until all is silent, except for my heavy breathing. Lauretta's body lies unmoving on the ground...dead. "You were warned," I sneer.

_Kiera_

"Kiera!" A knock at the door wakes me just as the first faint, gray light of morning peeks through the curtains. "Kiera, I need to speak with you."

"Coming, Madam." I crawl from bed and open the door. "Yes?"

"May I come in? I need to speak with you about our argument yesterday."

"Certainly, as long as you aren't going to throw my few belongings out the window." I stand aside to let her enter.

"No, no. I'm here to apologize," she laughs as she crosses the room.

"Good. Now, I need to bathe; I shall listen from the bathroom." I hang my clothes for the day over the changing screen.

"That's fine."

"Merci." I hurry to the bath and draw the warm water. I strip myself of yesterday's clothes and step into the bubble covered water, sinking down until it is up to my neck. I sigh as the water's warmth transfers to my body, warming me, chasing the weariness away as the sun chases away the shadows.

"I'm sorry, Kiera. It's just...I got so excited about reopening that I forgot my romise to you. You've been lied to all of your life, and I know you were hoping for me to be a person you could trust. I don't blame you if you withdrawal your trust," she explains.

"Indeed, Madam. After that, I was considering removing my trust and leaving here to return to my former nomadic ways..no trust, no love, no true home...just me and my music," I reply, running a soapy sponge over the entirety of my pale body, scrubbing away any dirt that I might have attracted last night.

She sighs loudly and heavily. "I don't what I'd do if you left me, Kiera. I consider you family...a daughter."

"I know, and I'm overwhelmed with joy to know that I hold such a place in your heart." I begin rinsing the suds from my body and hair. As I leave the water and dry off, I hear Madam Sandria's muffled sobs. "Madam?" I ask, quickly pulling on my robe. I exit the bathroom to find her sitting on the bed, her face buried in her palms. She doesn't notice me until I sit down at her side. "Don't cry, Madam." I put my arms around her in a hug and sing softly as I sway side to side.

"Kiera, forgive me. Go get dressed; I'll be fine," she says, trying to hide her tears.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Go." She waves me away.

"Very well, but please, stay. I'll need your help tying my dress." I step behind the screen.

"Just call when you need me," she agrees.

"Of course." I remove my robe and put my undergarments on quickly, wanting only to force the chill in the air to leave and let the heat in. Putting on my midnight blue dress, I call for Madam.

She comes behind the screen and immediately begins weaving the thick, matching string through the holes in the back of my dress.

As she does so, I hold my silver hair away from my neck, out of her way. To break the unbearable silence, I ask, "Madam, how many children did you have?"

"Why do you ask?" she returns, finishing the lacing.

"You spoke of your daughters, and I simply would like to know what they are like."

"Oh, Kiera, I..."

"But if you don't want to talk about them," I start.

"No," she says, cutting me off. "It's quite all right. Finish dressing, and come downstairs;I will explain over a cup of tea."

"As you wish." As she leaves, I sit down in front of my vanity and brush out my hair before managing it into the normal bun. I put on my black shoes, straighten my skirt, and I hurry downstairs. I am quite interested in what Madam's children were or are like.

"Well, you certainly finished in a hurry," Madam laughs. "Are you that interested, my dear child?"

"Forgive me, Madam, for such eagerness." I lower my head, trying to hide my flushed cheeks as best I can. "It was very rude; my manners fled me."

"No, it's fine, Kiera. You are a well mannered young woman. Sit down, and I'll begin." She hands me a cup of tea and gestures to the seat to the right of hers at the dining room table.

"Merci." I take a sip of the warm tea and nod for her to proceed.

"Well, I have three daughters: Lynette, Grace, and Danielle. Lynette is the eldest of the three, with dark, curly hair and brown eyes; I have two lovely grand-daughters from her. Both are exact replicants of their mother. Grace is my middle daughter; her hair is fiery red, like her father's, with bright blue eyes. She has one child...a son. Danielle, the youngest, favors Lynette; however, her hair is straight. She, too, has two children...twins...both precious little boys."

"Aw...you must be proud."

"Indeed, but it's been more than a year since I've seen any of them. Apparently, 'grandmother' is not a word frequently used in their vocabulary."

"I'm sure they just haven't had the time to visit lately, or maybe you aren't home when they come," I say, trying to console her.

"No. I never leave the inn. They just don't want anything to do with me since their father, Andrew, died. That was about two years ago." She wipes a tear from her age-ravaged cheek that proves the many decades she's seen pass.

"I'm sorry; perhaps you can go visit them one day, seeing as I can handle things here. You deserve a day off, and surely, by now, you trust me to keep everything in order." I pat her wrinkled hand.

"Yes, but I'm afraid I will not be able to see all of my children," she says, a sigh following.

"What do you mean? Don't you know where they are resident?" I question in slight confusion.

"Kiera, I had a fourth child, but I've not mentioned my firstborn to anyone until now. I let everyone assume I had but three daughters; the heartache that always came with his memory was too much to bear."

"If it is too painful to recall, do not tell me. Spare yourself, Madam," I plead.

"It is for the best; I should have spoken to someone about him ages ago. you are a good listener, child. Will you hear my tale?" She cups my hand with both of hers. "Please, Kiera. I implore you to harken to me."

"You have been very generous to me, Madam Sandria, and I owe you much. If this is a way of showing my gratitude, I will stay here to listen until Judgment Day."

"Merci, my dear, dear Kiera. You are indeed a heaven-sent blessing." She smiles faintly and begins. "I was eighteen when I met Andrew Mardon. He was handsome...blue eyes and blazing red hair..an Irishman. He'd come to France for schooling in architecture. We met in the small cafe where I worked for my uncle. He had ordered a cimple cup of tea, to my astonishment. I'd always thought the Irish were heavy rum-drinkers, but apparently, he was raised to be a gentleman. He asked my name and invited me to join him. With my uncle's permission, I did, and we discussed the places we had been and wanted to go. After that, he came back to the cafe every day to drink his tea and have the normal conversations with me. We fell in love...paying our differences no mind. I loved his hair and shoddy French accent...he adored my dark eyes and fiery spirit when provoked. I suppose the saying 'opposites attract' held true in our romance. He eventually mustered up the courage to ask for my hand. I accepted, and we were married a few short weeks late."

"We lived happily at his humble flat. It was a small apartment, really, with one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen, and den. I suppose we lived there for about a year or so. When I told him the news of my pregnancy, he was very excited. Then Irish like big families. We moved not long after I told him...such a small lodging as ours was certainly no place to raise a family of three or more. There simply wasn't the adequate space required for children, and that is how we acquired this inn. I thought it a bit much, but Andrew insisted that this would give us plenty of space; we could make money and raise our family without having to leave home."

"Our little inn did well from the start, giving us more joy than we already had. Soon the time came for the birth, and we kept our schedule clear for a month, anticipating that it could be any day. Atlast, on July 14, 1840, I went into labor. We had no guests or additional employees. The only people present were myself, of course, the midwife, Andrew, and my close friend, Marie. The night was warm and a storm covered my screams. Rain and hail pecked at the glass of the window while the howling wind rattled the frame and shutters. Lightning darted across the sky, setting the clouds and atmosphere ablaze momentarily with a crooked, silver streak. The thunder rumbled like a massive herd of deer bounding across a meadow. The birth was comlicated; not only was I drained of energy, but it was a breach delivery. As I writhed in agony, a sudden, strong gust of wind blew open the window, sending huge drops of rain crashing onto the floor, furniture, and all the room's occupants. All the candles and lamps were doused by rain or wind, throwing the room into darkness. This discouraged mel I took it as a sign of death to come...either myself or mine and Andrew's child. The midwife asked why I was so hopeless and I replied that the dark was the cause. As she locked the window and drew the soaked drapes, she said that all hope wasn't lost. She gestured to the small flame of one candle dancing wildly against the surrounding gloom. Though it provided little light, it somehow rekendled my hope. It wasn't long after that our son was born. Andrew came in to see us and smiled at the sight, all worry fleeing his eyes. However, our infant was given a deformity...the right side of his face was marred..not very easy on the eyes at first. No matter, we accepted him as he was and loved him as if his face looked as ours did."

"What did you name him?" I question.

"We gave him an Irish name...Erik," she replies. "He favored, except for his dark, brown hair. His eyes were blue...a gogeous, mesmorizing blue. The midwife seemed apalled that we could love him. In fact, she asked if we wanted her to take him away and leave him in an alley to die or take him into the forest for the predators to dine on."

"How dare she? Anyone who would do that to a newborn is nothing more than heartless filth."

"Andrew and I did not hold a grudge against her; everyone is entitled to their opinion and sees things differently than everyone else."

"Yes, but it was still wrong of her," I add. "But, enough of that, do continue."

"Well, when she left she bid Andrew and I a kind adieu but grimaced at Erik. We took good care of our son for two weeks, but one night that changed."

"What do you mean?"

"I put him to bed one night and left him to sleep peacefully. While Andrew and I read downstairs, we heard a window shatter. We immediately hurried to Erik's cradle, but he was missing. Andrew ran into the streets in search of him while I frantically searched the inn. A while later, Andrew returned, downhearted. He was unable to find our son, just as I. The only thing we had left of our precious beau was his clothing and cradle. We sent out a search party, but after three months, nothing was found. All hope was lost. Our babe was never found." Tears stream down her cheeks. "He'd be thirty-two years old by now. Oh, how I miss him." She buries her face in her arms as they rest on the table top.

"Madame." I comfort her.

After a bit, I go to get more tea, and as I prepare it, her son's name and features set off an alarm bell in my mind. _Her description matches my Erik. The deformed right side of his face, the dark hair, and dazzling blue eyes. A perfect match. Perhaps my Erik is her son! But should I bring this to her attention?_ I ponder.

"Thank you so much, Kiera," Madam says, taking cup.

_I will not tell her of my discovery...at least, not yet. I must be one-hundred percent certain they are one and the same. I cannot jump to conclusions. And if they turn out to be two different people, it will only cause Madame Sandria more pain. I can't have that._ I decide that my lips are to be sealed on this topic.


	12. Chapter 12

_Kiera_

"Kiera, will you run an errand for me?" Madam Mardon calls to me.

"Of course, Madam. I'll be down promptly." I prop the broom I am using to sweep the halls against the wall and hurry downstairs, removing my apron as I go. "What would you like me to do, Madam?"

"I'd like you to take this..." She hands me an envelope. "To the newspaper. It is an add I wish to have put in the paper as soon as possible. I think there is enough enclosed to pay for it. Thank you very much, Kiera. You are such a dear. Now, be safe as you go."

"Yes, Madam." I cannot help but smile; she is beginning to sound like my mother. I put on my gloves, shawl, and hat before taking the envelope and leaving the inn.

As I stroll down the streets, no one stares at me. I've managed to hide the majority of my silver hair under my hat. I hum as I go, each stride taking my farther and farther down the path. Once I arrive at the newspaper, I push the door open, causing a bell to sound, alerting the man sitting at the counter on the opposing side of the room of my presence.

He clumsily jumps to his feet, the dinging of the bell having startled him from his reading. He looks at me, and fixes his shirt, tucking in a loose corner. "I'm sorry, Mademoiselle. May I be of service?"

I giggle at the sight of his reading glasses hanging crookedly from his nose, one side lower than the other, the side attachments of the higher side pushing the hair on the side of his head upward in a silly fashion. "I think those will be of better service if they are on correctly, Monsieur."

"Good heavens!" He removes them, dropping them into a drawer before returning his attention to me. "Now, can I help you?"

"Yes. I would like to put an add in..."

"One moment," he interrupts, pulling open another drawer. He rumages through it until he appears to find what he is searching for. He tosses a pad of parchment on the desk top and turns away. "Where did I put that pen?" he asks aloud, scratching the back of his head.

"Here, Monsieur." I pull a quill from under the parchment and hand it to the confused man.

He looks at me oddly. "Merci."

"You know, those spectacles may be helpful for more than just reading." I raise a brow, now getting rather irritated with his inability to find all of the tools for such a simple task as the one at hand. Unconciously, my foot begins to tap with impatience as the man searches again; I suppose he's looking for the ink sitting right under his nose beside the parchment. _For most people, patience is a virtue, but when it comes to you, patience is impossible to recieve and making you impatient is signing a death warrant,_ Erik once said, teasing me as I waited as impateintly for him to find an appropriate duet for violin as I am now waiting for this clumsy oaf to find a stupid bottle of ink hidden in plain view.

"On the desk, Monsieur," I growl, the speed of my foot's tap increasing along with my anger.

"Thank you, again, Mademoiselle. You have very ood eye-sight," he compliments me, dipping the quill in the ink.

"And yours seems to be very poor," I add, sighing in relief now that he has at last found his ink

"Well, I...yes, I suppose it is. What would you like this add to say?"

I open the envelope and hand him the piece of folded parchment contained inside. "The instructions are there."

He gives me an irate look. "I went through all of that trouble to find my quill, ink, and paper to write this down, and you have it written down prior. How very, very rude." His attitude is smart and cocky.

"Monsieur..."

"Were you raised by monkeys in a jungle somewhere? You have no manners!" he continues.

"Monsieur, I was NOT raised by monkeys or in a jungle!" I snatch him up by his collar and stare him dead in the eye. "I am not the one who was ignorant enough to find those things without first asking if I had everything already written down, and I am not the one so blind and unorganized as to not be able to find a bottle of ink and a quill lying right under my nose on the desk!"

His expression changes from that of anger to fright. He's obviously never seen a woman lose her temper. Who knows, he might believe that women have no such thing and are completely helpless. No doubt, we do, at times, need assistance; I've needed Erik's help on a few occassions, but most of the time, I could handle things perfectly fine on my own. Everyone has a temper, we women simply control ours better, unlike men, who, when angry, take their rage out on their wives and chidlren, beating them to a pulp or until their temper has diminished.

"N...no. No, of course not."

I release him. "That's what I thought. Now, here's the money for the add and what it is to say." I hand the envelope to him and storm out, still quite angry at his stupidity. I walk at a quick pace down the streets but a shrill scream stops me. I head for a nearby alley, knowing that a deserted alley is the perfect place for a crime to be committed. I step into the shadows and scan carefully for any sign of struggle.

"Help!" a sob errupts from the very back of the alley.

I run forward, stopping just short of the three young boys standing over the small girl curled in a ball on the ground.

"Take that, you measly shrimp!" shouts one boy, kicking the little girl.

"Grab her hair!" another screams.

The third snatches the dirty blonde hair up and yanks upward, pulling the girl's head up and then smashing it back down into the ground. Next, he picks up a rock and drops it on her head. My eyes fill with tears as I recall the times that I endured the same torture. "Don't you think you boys should be playing elsewhere?" I ask in an eerie voice that sounds from no particular direction, making me impossible to locate. Erik taught me ventrilaquism...he taught me very well.

_"Concentrate, Kiera. Hear your voice coming from the object in your mind and then speak," Erik explained. "Trust me."_

_"All right." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, thinking about my voice sounding from the flower I had chosen. "Good evening, Erik," my voice was coming from the flower._

_"Well done!" he smiled, clapping his hands together. "You are a fast learner."_

"Who's there!" the three boys whirl around, searching for another figure.

"Why do you torture that girl?" I ask. "What has she done to you?"

"It's none of your business!" the boy with a hat covering his blonde hair says. He is apparently the leader of this bunch of roughians.

"Oh, I believe it is my business." I step from the shadows, releasing my silver hair from its imprisonment under my hat. It cascades down my back and over my shoulders like a waterfall; I widen my eyes, the black pupil consuming most of it, leaving only a bit of white around the edges.

"Oh, my God!" screams the chocolate-haired boy wearing a blue shirt and suspenders. He backs away, frightened.

"What the bloody hell are you?" the other, shorter boy with hazel eyes questions.

"Do you know why I am here, young messieurs?" I stand infront of them, my arms folded across my chest.

"You're just some lady who's going to turn us in to the gendarmes..if you can catch us!" The three run towards me, two on one side, one on the other.

"I think not!" I extend my long arms and catch all three around their waists and push them back. I take hold of their shirts, holding them infront of me. I tower over the young boys, my blazing eyes burning into their souls, revealing their true feelings...fear.

"Let go of us, you bitch!" the blonde haired boy shouts.

"Well, it appears you have a foul mouth. Where did you learn such language?"

"My Papa! He calls my Maman that all the time and..." He grins proudly. "He whips her. He hits her with everything he can get his hands on, but lately, his favorite choice is a broom handle. I think it's funny and I'm going to be just like my Papa."

"You think it's funny that your mother is in pain?"

"Yes," he answers.

"And why does your father beat your mother? Do you know?"

"He said it was because she is a whore and deserves every beating she gets," he replies quickly.

"Oh." I look to the other two. "And what about the two of you? Do your fathers beat your mothers?"

"N..no, Mademoiselle," the boy with the suspenders says, taking interest in his brown shoes.

"My papa loves my maman. He kisses her every night before they go to bed," the one with hazel eyes sighs, looking to the alley wall.

"Then why are the two of you hurting this poor, defenseless girl?"

A pair of hazel eyes looks up to me. "Thomas tells us we have to or we won't have any friends." He points a trembling finger at the suspected leader.

"Is that so?" Both nod. "Apologize to her and then you may go." I push them in the direction of the girl.

The kneel and ask her forgiveness, tears in their eyes. She smiles slightly, hugging the remorseful lads and kissing each of their cheeks. "Merci." They walk past me, tears still on their cheeks.

Thomas tries to walk past me but I step into his path. "You are not permitted to leave just yet, Monsieur. You've not apologized to her."

He sighs and stamps over to the girl. "I'm sorry!" he snaps and walks back up to me, anger flaring up in his eyes.

I frown at him and grab his shirt, dragging him back over to the girl. "Young Mademoiselle." I hold out my hand to the girl who is now backed against the wall. "I'm going to take you and this young lad home."

She nods and takes my hand. I turn about, Thomas on my left and the girl on my right. "Where do you live, Thomas?" I inquire.

"There." He points to a large house on the right hand side of the road. "The one with the rose bushes lining the path to the door."

"Very good." I lead them both up to the door. I release the girl's hand and say, "Stay here. You're going home next, little one." I knock, still holding onto Thomas's hand tightly.

"Can I help you?" A woman steps out, a nasty purple bruise surrounding her left eye. "Thomas!" She stares at the boy. "Where have you been?"

"I found him in an alley, beating this little girl." I gesture to the quivering girl. "I felt it my duty to bring him home."

"I'm so sorry, my dear child." She hugs the little girl, which is when I ntoice that she is pregnant.

"Madame, are you all right?" I ask, as she ushers Thomas into the house. "May I ask how you acquired that black eye?"

She walks to a nearby rose bush. "My...husband..." She takes a ragged breath; this poor woman is quite ill. "He beats me..because of my baby."

"That's what Thomas told me when I confronted him, but he failed to mention your pregnancy. I'm sorry for what your husband does to you. If you like, I can go to the police and bring them here, to help you, to get you away from him so that you and you're child will no longer be abused."

"That's very kind of you, Mademoiselle, but I cannot leave him. I love him too dearly. No matter how much he drinks, no matter how many times he strikes me, no matter how many times he thrusts me to the wall, I will always love him. Thank you for bringing Thomas home." She cuts the most beautiful of the dozens of roses on the bush and hands it to me. "I'm afraid it is all I can give you, besides my eternal gratitude."

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself, Madame." I walk away, taking the girl's hand again.

"Where do you live, miss?"

"I don't have a home," she whispers in a shakey voice. "And my name's Anna."

"Well, then, Anna, what do you mean?"

"My mother died when I was four years old and so did my baby brother. He died the same night she did...he was just a few minutes old." Her voice still has little strength.

"Then, she died having your brother?" She nods again. "And what of your father?"

"I don't want to talk about it. You can just leave me here..on the steet. It's where I've always stayed." She pulls away from me.

"Anna." I stoop to her level. "I am not going to leave you on the streets. Believe me, I've lived on the streets and in the forest my entire life...atleast, until now. There was a sweet lady who took me in, and I know for a fact that she will gladly take you in too. Please, Anna, come with me."

"Well...I don't know." She looks into my eyes, searching my soul for trust. "What is your name?"

"If I tell you, will you come home with me and stay long enough for me to find your relatives?"

"Yes."

I smile. "I'm Kiera."

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Kiera." She takes my hand, finding the trust in my soul she was looking for. "Merci."

"Not at all." I place the rose in her blonde hair, taking her hand once more.


	13. Chapter 13

_Kiera_

"Kiera..." Anna stops, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind swirls around us. "It's getting cold, and the sky is dark."

I look to the heavens to see dark, thick storm clouds rolling on the wind, approaching Paris with great haste. "We'll never make it to the inn before this weather arrives." I pull Anna to me, holding her close to my side, shielding her from another gust. The first huge drop of rain plumits to Earth, colliding with the cobblestone just mere inches from my skirts. "Here." I remove my shawl and wrap it around Anna's bare shoulders. "We must find shelter."

"But where? No one will take in two strangers off the street...not even for an enormous storm." Anna pulls the warm fabric closer to her tiny body, inching ever closer to me.

I put one arm around her, keeping her close as my eyes search the area for a place in which to seek refuge from the rain while its pitter-patter on the ground and surrounding buildings grows quicker and more regular. None of the structures nearby seem suitable until my eyes catch sight of the Opera Populair towering over the other buildings a hundred feet away, if that. "Quick, Anna. The Opera!" I take her hand and lifting my skirts slightly, begin to run towards the abandoned opera house.

The rain pounds against our cheeks, each droplet stinging the flesh like the prick of a needle as we hurry towards our sanctuary. Anna seems to have a bit of trouble using her small steps to keep up with my long strides. She stumbles and falls into a puddle. "Anna!" I pick her up and carry her on my hip the rest of the way.

I enter through the alley door Erik showed me, Anna still on my hip, her scrawny arms wrapped round my neck, pulling my soaked hair every now and then. "Here we are." I remove her from my hip and set her on her own feet.

"Why here, Kiera?" she questions, her limbs beginning to shake from the cold of the building and the dampness of her clothing.

"Because I have a friend who lives here, and I believe he will permit us to stay until the weather passes. This way." I take her hand again, leading her through the dark corridors.

"How can you see? I can't even see my hand infront of my nose." Kiera clings to my hand with both of hers.

"I'm used to the dark, Anna. All of my life it has been my only comfort besides my music," I reply.

"Music? What instrument do you play?"

"Violin mostly...I can play piano, too, but I prefer my violin. In fact, I believe I left it here on my last visit with my friend."

"Will you play for me?" she asks excitedly.

"Of course, and perhaps my friend will play for you. He's more talented than I." I lift her from the ground suddenly. "I need you to be very quiet so I can hear if someone is approaching. Am I clear?"

"Yes." She leans her head against my shoulder, her breathing is quick, along with her heart beat; she's nervous about this place.

Upon arrival at the lake, I put Anna back down. Taking her chin in one hand, I say sternly, "Do NOT move from this spot. If you do, Death will wrap his cold fingers around you and drag you into the eternal darkness."

She gasps and tries to pull away. "Stop! I'm scared!"

"Anna, I am being serious. Death can be lurking around any corner in this place. One wrong step and you could wake up at your judgement. Please, child, don't disobey me." I pull the boat closer to shore and help Anna in before pushing off the shore and jumping in myself.

"Why is there a lake underground?" Anna inquires following the long silence caused my morbid warning.

"The lake was discovered while they were digging up the ground of the site. They built the Opera Populair on the lake because they could not be rid of such an amount of water without going over budget; therefore, they left it as it was...fish and all," I explain.

"Oh. Why are we crossing the lake? Does your friend live in the middle of it on an island? Is he some sort of magician who was banished by the evil queen to keep him from over-throwing her?" Anna becomes anxious, those blue eyes, full of hope and innocense, staring at me from across the boat.

"Well, he doesn't live on an island..his house is on the other side of the lake; he is a magician, but I don't think he was banished for trying to overthrow the evil queen," I laugh. She's heard many fairy tales in her time, despite the loss of her mother.

"What a shame..." She pauses. "Is he handsome?"

"I think he is, but you may not feel the same," I retort.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I?"

"My friend wears a mask. You see, Anna, when he was born, the right side of his face was deformed and the deformity made him different. As you know, being different in society is more likely than not, sheer torture, and he was no exception. He was treated terribly from his youth by gypsies, merchants, villagers...anyone who caught sight of him, with or without the mask. I warn you, Anna, when we arrive, try your hardest not to say anything that might offend him; he has an awful temper and I'd hate for you to see it."

"I will, Kiera." She is silent for a long while but she shatters it just as I pull the boat ashore. "Do you love him?"

"Don't you think that is a bit personal?" I stare at her, a brow raised.

"I know, but it's just a question," she returns.

"What have we here?" Erik's voice interrupts before I can say anything in reply to her statement. "Kiera, what brings you back this afternoon? And with a child?"

"A storm blew in before we could reach the inn. I'd hoped you'd permit us to stay here, out of the catacombs and weather. May we stay, mon ami?"

Erik looks at me for a moment and then stares down at Anna. "Come inside." He opens the door wider so that Anna and I can both pass.

"Merci, Erik." I smile brightly at him. (For what reason, I am unsure. Perhaps the answer to Anna's question is being unraveled.)

"Who's this, Kiera? Some love child you delivered years ago, before we met, that you've been keeping secret?" He grins wickedly. "She looks nothing like you. I presume she favors her father."

"Erik!" I exclaim. "No. You are very well aware that I have no love life. Her name is Anna; I rescued her from a group of attackers in an alley. I'd planned on letting her stay with me at the inn until I could track down a relative to be her guardian."

"I know, Kiera; I was teasing." He hurries to another room and returns with two blankets, handing one to each of us. "You look terribly cold...sit by the fire place and warm yourselves." He starts towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I question, sitting down on the sofa next to Anna, who has pulled her legs up onto the couch, her knees the same level as her chin.

"To the ballet dormitories," he answers, stopping momentarily.

"Why?"

"To see if I can find the two of you some dry clothes." He continues out the door, locking it behind him.

"Your friend is very strange," Anna says softly after a moment or so.

"He is unique, Anna." I pull the blanket more tightly around my shoulders. "And to answer your question from eariler, I do have feelings for him. I don't know if they are for a man who holds my heart or a man who is my dearest and oldest friend, though."

"How long have you known him?" she continues to pose questions.

"I've known Erik for about six years now, but for the last four years, we've been seperated. I've only since located him a few days ago, and to be honest, until I saw him again, I never truly knew how much I missed him."

"Would you marry him if he asked?" Anna leans against me.

"Anna!"

"Please!" she whines, her big blue eyes staring me into complience.

"Well...if he asked, I would," I sigh. I begin to tickle Anna, making giggles errupt from her vocal cords. A thud startles us both. I look to the floor below Erik's arm chair. "My violin." I rise and kneel beside the case, lifting it with as much care as you would an infant.

"Will you play for me now?" Anna joins me.

"I suppose." I open the case and pull out the bow and instrument. I put it to my chin and pull the bow across the strings...a lovely note fills the air. Again, I pull the bow across, only this time, I change notes, molding them into the very same tune Erik played a few days ago.

Anna sways to the music as I continue to play. Soon, however, she begins to grow weary, the tune more like a lullaby to her young ears. After a few more minutes, she falls asleep against Erik's chair. I lift her from the ground, having put my violin away, and lie her on the couch, covering her with the blanket.

"I see the little one finally gave in to sleep's tantalizing ways," Erik chuckles, stepping into the den where I sit on the sofa's edge, stroking Anna's slowly drying hair.

"Yes. Any luck on some dry clothes?"

"Indeed. Here you are." He holds out a dark green dress. "I believe it will fit you."

"Merci, mon ami." I take the dress. "And Anna?"

"I was lucky that one of the girls of the ballet was but seven years old. I found this." He holds out a bright yellow dress.

"I know she'll be very grateful, Erik." I turn away to wake Anna.

"Your welcome. You may use the room on the right to change in." He departs to the music room and begins to play lightly on the piano.

"Anna, come. Erik has brought us some dry clothes..we must change." I shake her gently. She sleepily sits up and then follows me to the room specified by Erik. I help her with her dress and then tend to my own.

"Kiera, may I go back to sleep?" Anna asks, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "I'm tired."

"Certainly. Back to the sofa with you." I cover her up once more, and when I'm sure she is asleep, I slip to the music room.

"Is something wrong?" Erik asks, noticing my presence in the doorway. He removes his figners from the keys and stares at me.

"No," I reply. "Why do you ask? Do you not like for people to hear you play?"

"I didn't invite you to enter here," he retorts sharply.

"And you never told me to stay out; therefore, I can come and go as I please, for now." I laugh and cross the room to the piano. "What was that you were playing?"

"An old work."

"Will you continue?" I question, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'd like to hear more, if you wouldn't mind."

He nods, his fingers returning to the keys and begins again.

I wander about the room, looking at the different trinkets and pieces of parchment scattered about. There's not too much here interesting..atleast not until I stumble upon a desk. There is an assortment of drawing materials: pastel, chalk, ink, charcoal. The edge of a drawing lying under the rest catches my eye. Pulling it out, I find it to be a picture of a woman...a woman whose pupils are charcoal black...a woman whose hair is long and silver. This woman appears to be me.

"Find something interesting, Kiera?" The piano has stopped and I can feel Erik's warm breath upon the skin of my neck.

"You pay very close attention to detail." I put the drawing down. "Who is she?"

"She is the very same woman who put lyrics to my song..and in those lyrics, she included a line that said, 'Just this one man, could be someone like me.' When I asked her who he was, she replied that I knew him very well. I returned home and discovered who he was." He reaches one long arm around me, retrieving the portrait.

"Oh? Who was he?"

"Me." He stares at the drawing. "And you are her." He points to the art.

"Why? Why did you draw this, Erik?" I demand.

"I admire beauty."

"Erik, I am not beautiful!"

"I beg to differ." He takes my hand and kisses it gently. "You are quite lovely and I admire you."

I look away, trying to hide the tears that have welled in my eyes. _Is he telling the truth?_

"Kiera...I wouldn't lie to you."

Losing control of my arms, I embrace him, crying into his shoulder. He seems to be a bit stunned, at first, but he gets past that. He rubs my back, singing softly to me as he strokes my hair. He helps me to the piano bench, where he sits beside me, letting me continue to cry, my face buried in his well-built chest. I cry until I am nearly asleep; he lifts me with ease and carries me to the room Anna and I dressed in. Lying me on the matress, he whispers, "Bonne nuit, Kiera," and walks out, leaving the door ajar so that if Anna wakes, I can go to her quickly.


	14. Chapter 14

_Erik_

Until Kiera wrapped her pale arms around my neck, I never knew how much I'd truly longed for her to do so. No one has ever been so unafraid to touch me, so willing to face me, so completely oblivious, by choice, mind you, to the monster that I somehow manage to keep detained. I still cannot believe I controled myself while her lips hovered so near to my flesh. I wanted badly to claim them for my own and hold her possessively, but it has not been all that long since my heart was broken by another beautiful woman. I should be very cautious of her, despite our long friendship; however, I am not fearful of her potential curiousity and the pain she could inflict upon me without a single regret.

After leaving Kiera to sleep, I sit in my chair in the den. As the fire light continues to cast chadows, the flickering light causes the sleeping child's blonde hair to shine and gleam. "Sleep well, little one." I find it difficult to accept that this young girl is sleeping so peacefully when a monster as myself roams freely around the building. Surely Kiera told the child about my temper and little tolerance.

"Leave me alone. Stop," the child mumbles, lashing out as if trying to hit some invisible spectre. She begins to kick and writhe, sending the blanket into the floor.

I go to the dreaming child and stroke her forehead, hoping that somehow this gesture will calm her down. I sing quietly to her, soothing her mind, chasing away the nightmares hiding in the shadows. After a moment she settles, lying still with a smile on her lips as the more pleasant dreams, I assume, make their way to her thoughts. Retrieving the blanket, I drape it over her skiny body, tucking it under her to keep the warmth in after the fire burns down. As she sleeps in peace again, a smile occupies my lips.

A sigh draws my attention to the door way of the room Kiera is in. "Are you certain you aren't the one who is a parent?" Kiera takes a step towards me, a smile also on her lips.

"What do you mean?" I take a step back, my eyes cast down.

"You tucked her in and saved her from a nightmare, Erik...both fatherly moves. Perhaps you are her father." She crosses the room to the sofa, brushing the little one's hair out of her childish face.

"I am not...rest assure." I stand behind her, gazing over her shoulder. "You've just met her?" I recieve a nod. "How did you win her trust so quickly? And why do you treat her as though she is your own child?"

"Well, I simply showed her kindness and understanding. I let her come to me and search my eyes for whatever she needed to find in my soul to be able to trust me." She turns around and stares into the windows to my soul. "I treat her the way I do, because everyone deserves to be loved. I recieved very little affection during my childhood...especially after my mother's premature death. I don't want anyone to end up the way I did."

"Appparently, not everyone deserves love." I fold my arms and turn my back to her. "I obviously don't."

Another sigh breaks the silence. "Erik." Her hand falls on my shoulder. "Even the Phantom deserves love...in fact, love is a neccessity. You have to have it; otherwise, you'll wind up completely insane."

"Then you think I am insane?"

"No, but I do believe that you are on the brink of it." She turns me about. "You need help, Erik...as bad as I hate to say it."

I can only stare at her, the monster within me contained...for now. "Kiera..." I start. "Come with me...there is something I would like to show you." I take her hand and lead her into my room. Leaving her in the center of the dark room, I go to a desk, light a small lamp, and open a drawer, pulling out an old, dirty piece of cloth.

"What is it?" she asks, taking it from my outstetched hand. "Some sort of baby blanket?" She runs her fingers over the fabric gently, flipping it over in her hands, studying every speck of dirt, every hole and tear, every stitch.

"I've had that blanket for longer than I can remember. It was the only thing that kept me warm when I was caged by the gypsies in their maniacal traveling fair. I kept it with me, because, as a toddler, I thought that perhaps it was something my mother gave me, something to prove how much she truly loved me. However, as I got older, and my mind changed, I began to think that it was a mere shred of cloth that my mother wrapped me in after birth, before dumping me in the streets for some soul to find. Or some sort of painful reminder that I had a family once, but they didn't want me, or just a way of laughing at me for as long as I lived," I explain as she continues fiddling with it.

"Mardon..." she says suddenly. " 'Mardon' is sewed onto the edge in golden thread."

"I've never noticed." I reach out to take it from her. "May I?"

"Of course." She places it in my hand.

" 'Mardon'. A last name?" I look to her; she seems to be pondering something quite intently and doesn't notice. "Is that name familiar to you?"

"Very familiar. In fact, the elderly woman whom I stay with...her last name is 'Mardon', and she told me yesterday she and her husband had had a son...a son they named Erik. She said his face was deformed on the right side from birth, but she never even thought of abandoning him. He was stolen from his cradle while she and her husband were downstairs reading. They searched for months, but he never found him."

"I'll not get my hopes up. You should return to bed, Kiera. It's very late." I put the cloth away and turn back to her.

"I must agree; you've been hurt badly from such, but I can't help but believe that perhaps you are Madam Mardon's lost son."

"Kiera...please, stop." I take her shoulders. "Just go back to bed."

"Erik..." she sighs, walking back to the bed where she had been sleeping. "I can't sleep...not after this little discovery." She sits down on the bed's edge, cradling her head in her hands.

"That can be changed quite easily." I begin to sing to her again as I join her.

She leans against me, humming the tune quietly until she is fast asleep. I lower her onto the matress slowly, careful not to wake her. Having pulled a blanket over her, I start to walk away again but stop. _What if she's right?_ _Perhaps my mother is still alive and not very far away. Would she recognize me? Would she still remember if I was her son? Would she be able to tell?_

I turn around and stare at Kiera' sleeping form, lying so quietly, so vulnerably. Christine never slept this well here. Christine was never so receptive of me either. Kiera welcomes me with a smile and compassion with each visit. All Miss Daae offered was a blank stare, her mouth agape. I had to put her under the spell of my voice to bring her here...Kiera comes willingly and without invitation. She wants to be here. I sit down on the bed's edge again and watch Kiera. _Why am I doing this? I learned my lesson with Christine! So why am I falling in love again?...And with a friend? _

How she sleeps with me so near, I may never know. Any other woman would be very warey of a man who is unbelievably lonely and lustful, let alone one who has never been with a woman in his life. Oh, how easy it would be to do whatever I wish with her, but as she trusts me, unlike most people, I'll not lay a hand on her.

Six a.m. and I am still watching Kiera as she slumbers.

"Erik?" She sits up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "Is Anna awake yet?"

"I'm not sure."

A scream makes both of us jump. "My room."

"Anna!" Kiera rushes past me, bursting into my room as I follow close behind. "Anna, child, what's wrong? Are you all right?" Kiera stoops beside the quivering girl.

"It...it's...it's a...a...c..co...coffin," she stammers, pointing a shakey finger at my "bed".

"No...no..it's...a...it's a..." Kiera looks to me, pleading for help with her eyes as Anna clings to her.

"It's a bed from Persia," I say.

"But...it looks like a coffin," Anna persists.

"No, little one. I spent several years in Persia, and the beds were so comfortable, I brought one with me..as a souvenier, if you will," I continue.

Anna stares at me, then the coffin, and finally seems satisfied with my explanation. "Very well."

"Erik, what time is it?" Kiera asks, wiping tears from Anna's eyes. "I have to get back to the inn."

"6:05."

"Thank you. Anna, come; we're going home. I'll be there shortly, meanwhile, get my violin, please." She ushers Anna out of the room before her gaze falls on me. "Merci, mon ami...for everything."

"Kiera." I take her hand, pulling her closer to me. "You are most welcome." I kiss her cheek and then wait for her reaction.

She blinks several times and answers, "A very unusual reply...but a very sweet reply." She returns the kiss.

"Kiera, are we leaving or aren't we?" Anna pokes her head in the door.

"Yes. I'm coming." Kiera walks towards the door and stops just as she reaches out for the door knob. "Would you care to escort us back to the surface, Erik?"

"Certainly." I offer my arm to her.

"Wait...may I take the blanket with me...to show Madam Mardon?" she questions, turning back to the desk.

I sigh. "If you like."

"Merci." She releases her hold on my arm and retrieves the blanket from the drawer before returning to me. "Now, shall we go?"

I smile and lead the way out to the boat. Anna climbs in eagerly, Kiera steps in and takes a seat after thanking me for allowing her to use my shoulder for balance. Once the two ladies are settled, I push off and take my seat at the oars.

Not a word is said between Kiera and I as we walk through the corridors. Only the little, bouncing girl, as I've dubbed her, due to her enthusiasm, makes noise...flinging questions at Kiera and me as if we are living, breathing, interactive encyclopedias. After reaching the surface, I open the alley door for them, recieving a direct smile from Kiera and a quick 'thank you' from hyperactive Anna. "Farewell, Mademoiselles." I bow to them.

"Au revoir, good Monsieur." Kiera curtsies, while Anna waves. While Anna is looking away, Kiera suddenly narrows the gap between us, her body only mere inches from mine, her lips at the level of my ear. "I'll come back once I've spoken with Madam Mardon, and I'll leave Anna at the inn. I can tell you don't particularly enjoy her excitement," she whispers. "And I'm going to find a way to help you before you cross the threshold between deep depression and insanity."

"Why?" _Please, admit fondness or love or something that tells me you care for me as much as I do you!_

"I care about you, Erik. You are my dearest friend; I don't want to lose you." She lets her lips brush my cheek before walking away with Anna holding her hand, skipping happily through the eeire, early morning mist.

A sigh escapes me as she disappears into the mist, a smile also playing on my lips at the thought of her words. _I care about you, Erik._ They are much vaguer than I had hoped, but her dark eyes enlighten me beyond that.


	15. Chapter 15

_"Erik, I love you," Kiera said, staring into his beautiful eyes. "I love you with the entirety of my person."_

_"Kiera..." He said her name in a longing sigh. He wanted horribly to reach out and take her in his arms, but he was afraid. Kiera was such a delicate creature to him. "How can you love me when I have lusted after another woman?" He was on his knees at her feet, his hands outstretched as if using body language to ask 'why?'. He lost control of himself then and began to cry into her lap, his arms crossed under his face._

_"Oh, Erik. My dear, sweet Erik..." The way she said his name made him want to pull her down onto the floor and do whatever he wished. "You know that I cannot despise you, even for such. That was a long time ago, and I have long since forgiven your many apologies." She stroked his hair with her fragile, pale hands._

_He looked up into her eyes; they were filled with nothing but love...love for him...love for the monster pleading at her feet. He felt like a child again...an innocent, terrified child, lost without his mother's protection and guidance._

_"Erik..." she said softly, lifting his head with her hands cupped on each cheek...the normal and marred. "I will love you no matter what you've done. No matter how many people you've murdered, no matter how many lives you may have ruined, no matter how many women you've stared at and longed for, my heart will always be in the palms of your hands. I would gladly marry you and give you all that is mine: my violin, my voice, my body, my innocense. It would all be yours if you wanted it."_

_He rose to his feet, towering over her like an envious shadow. "Kiera, you don't mean that." He trailed his fingertips along her jawline as she shuddered at the coldness of his touch._

_"I mean every word of it." She took his hand and pressed her lips against it. "I will prove it to you." She, too, rose from her seat; taking both of his hands, she placed them on her waist and pulled herself as close to him as possible. _

_"Kiera..." He searched her eyes for an explanation. The only explanation he could find was, 'I love you. Now, take me.' She was, indeed, being truthful in her vow. She was no longer fearful of him and at the moment, as willing as the common whore. "I can't..."_

_"Enough!" She covered his lips with two fingers but soon replaced them with her soft, warm lips. Her hands roamed upward, groping at his biceps and shirt collar, then continueing on until they found his hair and began exploring the dense forest of brown strands. She soon ended this and clung to the back of his neck. He kept his arms locked tightly around her tiny waist, keeping her close enough to feel the warmth of her body through their clothing._

_They found themselves moving towards the sofa...Erik leading the way, their lips still locked in a heated kiss. Kiera's legs gave out the moment her cavs struck the black fabric; she fell back onto the soft cushion and pulled Erik down with her. His hands wandered freely over her neck and what little clevage was exposed by the tight dress and corset she wore. "Kiera." He stood up, leaving her dumbfounded on the sofa. "We shouldn't. What if we take it too far?" Erik knew if he didn't stop now, he wouldn't be able to keep himself from removing her clothing and his own. They weren't even engaged...this was hardly appropriate._

_"I'll decide when you have gone too far." She grabbed his hands and yanked him down again._

_Kiera suddenly cried out in pain. Erik stood up, yet again. "What's wrong?"_

_She removed her hands from where they were clamped over her stomach. A crimson liquid covered her hands and spewed from the puncture wound caused by some unknown source. Her hands were trembling and her breath quick as she stared down at what could prove to be her mortal wound. "Erik..." she whispered._

_"No!" He quickly covered the wound with his hands, applying pressure so as to stop the bleeding, hopefully. "Help!" he cried, though he knew no one would hear him. He was five stories below the ground, for Christ's sake. Kiera would die down here if he could not get help. "Someone! Please, help us!"_

_"Erik, I'm sorry." Kiera's voice was faint as a thin line of blood trailed down from the corner of her mouth._

_"Kiera, please, stay with me. I love you so much! God, please!" He looked upward as if to be gazing up into Heaven. "Kiera, I want you to be my wife, the woman I share the rest of my life with, the warm sensation in my heart at all times, the slinder arms wrapped round me at night! Please! Kiera, don't leave me!" he begged, tears streaming down his cheeks._

_"I accept.." she drew in a shallow breath as the line of blood grew longer and wider. "I'll be waiting at the gates for you." She took another breath. "My love." Her eyelids closed, hiding her uniquely beautiful eyes from the world, never to be reopened._

_

* * *

_

_Erik_

"Kiera!" I shout, shooting up from my arm chair, a cold sweat covering my skin. I look around, searching for her body. After a thorough scan, I conclude that it was but a dream. I lean back in my chair, covering my face with my hands. "Only a dream." _Yes, only a dream and a cruel one, at that. Why would such a sweet dream be planted in my mind only to turn terribly wrong? _

"Perhaps my music will calm my nerves." I stand again and walk to the music room. Sitting down on the piano bench, I recall the moment the Kiera sat at my side, crying into my chest, allowing me to comfort her. _Why couldn't the dream end like that...with Kiera in my arms crying instead of dying?_

* * *

_Kiera_

"Kiera Torque!" Madam Mardon exclaims as Anna and I step into the parlor. "Where on earth have you been all night, child? I've been worried sick!"

"Forgive me, Madam. I was side tracked, and with the weather, I simply couldn't make it back."

"Sidetracked? By what? As far as I know, there isn't anything _that_ miraculous in Paris," she rants.

"By Anna.." I step aside, revealing the child cowering behind my skirts.

"Oh, my goodness!" Madam puts a hand over her heart and stumbles back a step or two. "A...a...a child!" she stammers. "Kiera...how...when...explain!"

I laugh. "Madam, it's certainly not what you think. I am not her mother...believe me, I've never been intimate with a man in my life. No, I found Anna in an alley being tormented by three young boys. I managed to give them a good scare, a stern lecture, and then sent them away. I couldn't leave her out in the streets, Madam, so I decided to bring her here. However, before we arrived, it began to pour rain, so we ran to the Opera and stayed there until all of this blew over."

"The Opera? Kiera, it's been abandoned for quite some time now. Hasn't it?"

"Not entirely. The remaining resident is a very good friend of mine. Anyway, he let us stay the night and found us dry clothing. He's a very generous man."

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing you are friends. Now, what did you say her name was?"

"Anna," the girl replies, taking a step forward. "Are you Madam Mardon?"

"Yes."

"Kiera, has told me a great deal about you. You seem very kind but a little over-reactive." Anna grins and looks down at her feet.

Madam chuckles. "You are right about that. I do have the tendency to over-react."

Anna returns her gaze to Madam and asks, "May I stay here for a while? I don't like it on the streets, it's horribly cold." Anna seems to shudder at the memory of the cold nights she's spent in alleys, doing her best to survive on the harsh streets of Paris.

"Of course you may. Kiera is a kind-hearted woman, though occassionally stubborn, but she'll take good care of you."

"Indeed. You've no need to worry about that, Anna. I'll get started on seeking out one of your relatives as soon as I can." I smile down at the girl. "Now, let's go get you washed up for a bit of breakfast." I take Anna's hand and lead her upstairs to my room.

"Is this your room?" she questions, gazing adoringly at the beauty of the chamber.

"Yes. This way to the bath." I guide her to the bathroom and draw some warm water for her to bathe in. "I'll bring you one of Madam's daughter's old dresses. Go ahead and get in. I'll be back shortly." I leave her to disrobe and make my way to what was Lynette's old room. I dig through the closet until I find a gorgous baby blue dress that will fit Anna. I manage to find some undergarments for her, as well as stockings and shoes, and even a hair ribbon to pull her blonde hair back with.

Upon my return, I knock on the bathroom door. "Anna, may I enter or would you prefer me to stay out here?"

"It's all right. You can come in," she returns.

I open the door to find her slumped down in the water, savoring it's warmth. "I see that the water is of appropriate temperature." I set the clothes on the sink and lean against the wall as she washes herself.

"Yes, Kiera. And, merci for all that you are doing for me. I really do appreciate it."

"Not at all." I hand her a towel and look away as she prepares to leave the water.

"Come. You can dress behind the screen."

She follows me into the bedroom and behind the screen. "Here are your clothes. If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be at the wardrobe."

"Very well."

I turn and walk to the wardrobe and opening the doors, begin to select what I will wear for the day. I've just pulled out a dark blue dress when Anna calls for my assistance. I hurry to her aid. "What do you need my help with?" I inquire, stepping behind the screen. I cannot but giggle at the sight of her hopping around in a circle, her arm over her shoulder as she desperately tries to fasten the button at the middle of the back of the dress. "Here, allow me." I stand behind her and fasten the troublesome thing with ease. "If you think that is difficult, just wait until you start wearing a corset."

"What is a corset, Kiera?" She sits down on the bed and puts on her shoes.

"A corset is an evil contraption that makes your waist even smaller than it is so that you can fit into even tinier dresses, but not only do they do that, they also keep your breasts in place." Anna gives me a confused look. "It's all right, you'll understand in a few years. Right now, I need you to go brush your hair while I bathe and dress."

She hurries over to my vanity and looks for a brush. "Where is your brush, Kiera?"

"In the first drawer on the right side," I reply, pulling my hair down in the bathroom, then taking off my dress and stepping into the tub. "When you finish, if you'll wait, I'll help with your hair."

* * *

_"Kiera!" he screamed as he fell to a heap on the floor, weeping over the one woman who truly understood him, who could truly indentify with his past, the one woman he knew loved him as he was...not for his voice and what he had done for her long ago...but for the man behind the mask...the real Erik._

_"What have you done, Monsiuer?" Anna's wavering voice asked._

_Erik looked up at the trembling girl standing at the end of the sofa. "What are talking about? I'd never hurt Kiera. I love her."_

_"It was your jealousy, Monsieur...you were jealous of mine and Kiera's relationship...because we were so close...almost like sisters. You were upset that the two of you could not be alone without me being somewhere nearby," she explained._

_"Never!"_

_"Then why are you being so defensive?" She walked up to him, staring coldly into his eyes. "You were jealous," she whispered. "You killed her, Monsieur. That jealousy turned into a dagger that you plunged into her stomach."_

_"No! No, no, no, no! This cannot be! I must be dreaming!" he sobbed, tugging on his hair. _

_"You've ruined your own life," Anna continued to pester him about this impossible situation._

* * *

_Erik_

"No!" I shot up again, this time from the piano keyboard where I'd fallen asleep. "Why do these damned dreams keep tormenting me?" I rise and went into the den where I immediately begin to remember the way Kiera treated the little Anna girl.

_Pesky girl!_ I thinkt, pushing the memory away only to drag the latest dream back. _You were jealous._ The child spoke in an evil tone when she'd said the statement in the dream, but I can only think of it as a sneer. _Am I jealous of this girl? Am I jealous of the way Kiera treats her? _I know well, by these thoughts, I am very much jealous...I want Kiera to love me, not Anna.

_Christ, man, she's only been back in your life for a few days, and you're already in love with her! Youv'e gone mad! She may have been your friend long ago, and you thought you knew her very well, but people change, you blind fool! She could be someone entirely different than the teen you knew in Persia! That was four years ago! Four years is plenty of time to change._

_I am not insane..Kiera has promised to keep me from that, _I argue with my mind.

_That doesn't mean she'll keep it!_ my mind retorts angrily.

_And that doesn't mean she won't. She'll be back soon with word on whether or not Madam Mardon is my mother. We will know then if she is capable of keeping her promises,_ I offer a truce.

* * *

_Kiera_

I dress hurriedly and walk to the vanity where Anna is staring at the tattered baby blanket I borrowed from Erik. "What's this?" She began to fumble it around, sticking her fingers through the holes, trailing her little fingers along the embroidered edge. "Why does it say 'Mardon'? Isn't that the lady downstairs's name?"

"Be careful with it, Anna. It is my friend's. I've simply brought it here to ask Madam Mardon if she recognizes it," I answer. "Let's fix your hair." I take the blanket and tuck it away in another drawer of the vanity. I take the brush and brush out a few missed tangles from Anna's blonde hair. After this, I pull it back in the matching ribbon. "Now, I'll fix my hair and we'll go to breakfast." I take the seat as she jumps up and heads straight for the balcony. "Be careful," I call, though I have few worries about her, surely she's smart enough to know not to lean over a balcony's edge.

"Anna!" I call to her. "Come, child!"

No responce.

My heart begins to race as I hurry towards the open balcony doors. "Anna!"


	16. Chapter 16

**WARNING:**** This will be a much shorter chapter than the others so don't freak out people. It's more dialogue, less detail and explanation. 'Kay? Okay! READ AND REVIEW!**

_Erik_

The next morning brings relief to me from the horrible dreams that have haunted me so. As always, I retrieve my newspaper from the door leading to the alley. I hired a boy some months ago to leave a paper there for me at a payment rate of five francs a week. The lad has never seen me and doesn't need to, so long as the money keeps rolling in. The headlines this morning are, _Woman and Child Murdered_.

"Kiera and Anna," I gasp. Reading on, it says:

_The bodies of a woman in her early twenties and a child of about six years were found in an alley just west of the abandoned Opera Populaire. The woman seems to have suffered a brutal blow to the back of her skull causing her to die almost immediately. Also, her clothes being out of place, bruises on her wrists, and other signs seem to indicate she was raped before her death. The child, however, suffered a more brutal death. Lacerations on her wrists and puncture wounds in her stomach tell investigators her tale; indications of rape are present on her body as well. The bodies have not been identified, but the police are working day and night to find names, families, and above all, justice for these two poor souls._

"No!" I shout, throwing the paper to the floor, unable to read anymore. "Please, God, not Kiera and Anna!" I pace back and forth, trying to convince myself that Kiera and Anna made it safely back to the inn but cannot.

_There was a dense fog covering the ground, they would not have been able to see anyone following them! The alleys are full of derranged psychopaths looking for easy prey! A defenceless woman and child is as easy as it gets! They were so vulnerable out there! I should have insisted on them staying until the streets cleared to attain better visibility of the surroundings! _

I stop and lean against the fireplace's mantle. "No...Kiera is a strong woman. If she can escape me, she can escape any common thief or rapist. It can't be them. But I must know for sure. The only problem is...how?"

_Leaving the Opera and roaming the streets in search of this inn poses the risk of me being seen. Staying here and worrying would drive me to complete insanity. Death is always an option...but if Keira came with word of this Madam Sandria Mardon, she'd be devistated to find me hanging lifelessly from the raftors. Perhaps she'll come today or tomorrow, and I'll know that she is all right._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

_Kiera_

"Got you!" Anna shouts, latching onto my ankles with her scrawny fingers.

"Anna!" I gasp. "There...you are! You...scared me...half...to death! I thought...you had...fallen...over the rail!" I pant, attempting to catch my breath after the scare.

"I'm not ignorant enough to lean over the rail so far, Kiera," she says in an irresistible voice and stares up at me with those beautiful eyes, forcing me to forgive her instantly.

"Well, what's important is that you're all right; you are forgiven." I reach down and pull her to her feet. "Now, what do you say to a nice plate of Madam Sandria's crepes?"

"Sounds heavenly!" Anna squeals and takes my hand, dragging me into the hall, down the stairs, and into the dining room where Madam is just setting out the last of the plates.

"Here you are, Anna. You're very first breakast as a temperarily adopted member of the Mardon family. Enjoy." Madam gestures to the chair to her left. "Of course, I can't make Kiera give up her place at my right hand. This inn would be to pieces if it weren't for her."

"That's fine." Anna eagerly sits down and begins to eat hurriedly.

"Slow down, child. We don't have that much to do today. Take your time and savor each bite for as long as possible," I laugh, lying my napkin in my lap.

Just as I am nearly finished with breakfast, we hear the bell on at the front desk ring. "Hello!" a familiar voice, with a Persian accent, calls from the lobby. "Is anyone here?"

"I'll handle this." I stand up and excuse myself. "Can I help you?"

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle. I'd like a room, if possible." A man in a grey suit with tanned skin, and black turns about. "Dear God!" He stumbles back. "What..why...how?"

"Forgive me if my appearance startles you, but I was born with silver hair and black eyes. Now, about your room."

"You mean your parents actually raised you...the way you were?" he asks.

I sigh, memories flooding my mind. "My mother died when I was eight years old, and my father was abusive until he died, just before my ninth birthday; I've wandered Europe and neighboring lands most of my life. I've even gone to Persia and stayed for two years," I answer.

"How abusive was your father? If I may ask." He seems to ignore my statement about the country that his accent is clearly native to.

"Let's just say I've had more than my fair share of broken bones and bruises. How long will you be staying with us, Monsieur?"

"That's awful."

"Monsieur, my past is of no importance. I need to know how long you wish to stay, Sir."

"Oh! Just for the night, Mademoiselle. Merci."

"Very good, Monsieur...?" I give him a questioning look.

"Khan."

"Monsieur Khan," I repeat, writing down the name. I take a key from a locked box, and then ask, "I hope you don't mind a simple room, Monsieur. We're not quite done renivating the more spectacular ones."

"Not at all, Mademoiselle." He follows me to a room on the first floor. "This looks splendid," he compliments the modest little room.

"You should see some of the others," I add. "By the way, I must give you my thanks, Monsieur Khan."

"Whatever for?" He stares at me, confusion gleaming in his brown eyes.

"You are the first common man to not look upon me as though I were some sort of beast. I can't go anywhere without eyes burning holes into the back of my neck," I explain.

"Well, you're quite welcome. You know, it's something I'll never understand...the reason people treat those who are unique so poorly. They never think that the individuals out there that they think are so hideous have the potential for greatness locked in their souls; however, that potential is never unlocked, because their appearance on the outside is different from everyone else's. I once knew a man who could be anything in the world...he was a genuis, without a doubt. Unfortuantely, he was born with an infection on the right side of his face and he wore a mask to hide it. He was abused and made to think he was unwelcome."

"Erik..." I whisper unconsciously.

"What? Whose name did you say?" he inquires anxiously.

"A friend of mine matches the description you gave. His name is Erik," I reply.

"Erik?! Why, that is the name of the man I knew! How do you know of him?"

"He is one of my closest and dearest friends. I met him in Persia six years ago, but then..."

"What?"

"We were torn apart after two years. The sultaness was going to put me to death for treason, and he rescued me. He told me to leave Persia while he stayed and endured whatever the sultaness did to him."

"Great Allah! You're Kiera Torque...the acrobat the sultaness had perform in court. Forgive me for not recognizing you sooner; I'm not used to seeing you in a proper dress," he exclaims.

"And you are that pesky daroga, Nadir Khan. When you told me your last name, I should have known who you were, but time takes a toll on everyone and everything...including memories."

"Indeed. So, how is Erik these days? I assume you've heard from him, as you speak of him in the present tense." Nadir seems quite eager to know of Erik and sits down on the bed, gesturing for me to sit in the arm chair nearby.

"He was fine yesterday. I've not spoken to or seen him today."

"Where does he stay? I know for a fact that Erik is quite particular about his lodgings," he continues.

"Out of respect for my friend, I cannot tell you that information, Monsieur Khan. I won't risk the chance of you being against him, as all the rest of Paris is, and deciding to take the police to his home to have him arrested, convicted, and put to death."

"Kiera...Kiera...you've not changed a bit. You're still standing up for him." Nadir stands to his feet and approaches me slowly. "As a good friend should. I honor your loyalty to him and will not ask again for his whereabouts."

"Thank you, Daroga. Now, we have breakfast downstairs, if you'd like to join us, but at the moment, I'll leave you to get settled into the room. Should you need sanything, don't hesitate to come to me." I leave the room, sighing with relief once I've closed the door. I've never been too comfortable around Nadir. Being assiciated with the police, I can't be too careful around him. For all I know, he could have come here to kidnap me and take me back to Persia to be put to death.

"Who was it, Kiera?" Madam Mardon asks when I reappear at the breakfast table.

"Our first guest, Madam, and to my own surprise, I know him from Persia. He was he daroga, the chief of police, but luckily, he wasn't responsible for my arrest and attempted murder." I pick up my plate. "Though, I must admit, I am still somewhat warey of him."

"Well, I'm sure you'll recover from that someday. How long will he be staying with us?" she inquires, taking my plate, hers, and Anna's to the sink.

"Just for tonight, and, Madam, may I have a word with you after dishes are done? It's quite important."

"Of course."

After I've washed the dishes, I hurry to my room to retrieve the old, tattered baby blanket I borrowed from Erik to show Madam. "Do you recognize this, Madam?" I hold it out to her.

Her face blanches as she takes the red cloth from my hand. For a moment she is too stunned (or confused) to say anything. "Where did you get this?" She recovers enough to speak, but her face is still just as pale as it was before.

"Then you do recognize it," I state.

"Yes," she sighs. "It's Erik's...my firstborn I spoke of. This is the blanket he was wrapped in when he was kidnapped those years ago. Why do you have it?" Her eyes fill with tears.

"Madam, the man who gave Anna and I shelter yesterday had it."

"But how? Why would a man living in an abandoned opera house five stories below the streets have it?"

"I suspect that he is your long lost son. His face is deformed on the right side...he never knew his parents...and his name is Erik."

"There's only one way to be sure, Kiera, if your suspicions are correct..." She looks up at me, tears slipping down her aged cheeks. "I have to be able to see him."

"I'm afraid that may be much easier said than done. I have known Erik for many years, and he rarely walks the streets. I highly doubt that I can convince him to come here, and I certainly will not lead you down to the fifth cellar of the Opera to see him...you'll catch your death down there," I protest.

She turns away, the blanket held to her breast. "Then atleast I have this. Thank you, my dear. Perhaps it is best that I don't see him."


	17. Chapter 17

**WARNING:** **This chapter contains 'Awwww' scenes that may make you very happy, aswell as imagined violence. I do not own the second song. It is from the movie Rigoletto. However, the first one is original! Also, this chapter moves kinda quick, so get ready! READ AND REVIEW! (and this one is pretty long...I made up for the previous chapter :D...bon chance)**

_Kiera_

"Madam? Madam, are you in there?" I knock lightly on the door to Madam Mardon's room. The only reply I recieve is a faint creak of the floor. I grasp the knob and turn it, forcing the door open. "Madam, are you all right?"

She is sitting in a rocking chair, the floor creaking each time the chair goes back; she's holding the baby blanket to her breast.

"_The night is cool,_

_The air smells sweet,_

_And you, my son, I'll safely keep._

_May you dream big,_

_And those dreams come true._

_Someday fame will surely find you._

_A complicated birth,_

_A miracle from the start._

_In your hands you hold my heart._

_Your father's face,_

_His smile and eyes._

_I couldn't ask for a more handsome child._

_My life, my love,_

_Your life's just begun._

_You can have anything you wish,_

_Even the sun."_

"Madam, please, answer me," I plead, taking her shoulders.

She jumps at my touch and turns to face me. "Oh! Kiera, child, you frightened me! What's wrong?"

"I was about to ask you the same. You've become so distracted since I showed you the blanket. Perhaps I should put it out of sight."

"No!" She grabs my hand as I reach for it. "It's all I have left of my little Erik. Don't take it from me, Kiera. Please!"

"Madam, I..."

"I know you are only trying to help me, but I need this as a tangible reminder of him," she interrupts.

I sigh heavily. "As you wish, Madam. Do you think that you are up to keeping an eye on Anna while I go visit Erik at the Opera? I made him a promise that I intend to keep."

"She'll be fine. Perhaps when you return, we can all go on a picnic, Monsieur Khan included," she suggests with a smile.

"Very well. I'll be back soon." I leave the room to tell Anna where I am going. "Anna!" I call for her as I walk down the hall. Quiet laughter from Monsieur Khan's room attracts my attention. "Monsieur?"

"You may enter," he returns.

I open the door to find Anna sitting on the bed next to Nadir. "Anna? What are you doing in here? You shouldn't be bothering Monsieur Khan."

"It's not a problem. You never mentioned you had a daughter. She doesn't favor you at all, though. I assume she takes after her father." Nadir stands up and straightens his jacket. "But she's quite lovely."

"I would thank you, Daroga; however, Anna is not my daughter, and I am unmarried. You are right about one thing..." I pause. "She is a lovely little girl." I smile at the blushing Anna.

"Merci, Kiera. You are the next best thing to a mother...you're like the older sister I never had." She hugs me around my legs.

"Good." Nadir smiles. "I couldn't imagine you marrying just any ordinary man; he'd have to be as unique as you. And Anna was causing no trouble; I was just telling her about Persia. No harm done."

"I'm glad to hear it. I just stopped to let the both of you know that we'll be going on a picnic when I return," I explain.

"Very well. We shall see you then." Nadir and Anna wave as I exit the room and head for the front door.

Once I've put on my cloak, I step into the streets and start towards the Opera Populair. _How do I explain to Erik what I've learned? Madam Mardon knows for certain that the blanket is her son's, but she can't be sure if my Erik is hers aswell. There must be a simple way to explain this to him without making Erik think I gave him false hope._

I decide to review a few of the possible scenarios.

_"Erik!" I'd call to him._

_"Bonjour, Kiera, mon ami. How did you fair on your expedition to discover the truth about my old blanket?" he'd ask._

_"Well, Erik, the blanket does belong to her son, but she says that she can't be certain if you are her son unless she can see your face," I would explain to him._

_His eyes would fill anger. "Then you want me to leave the Opera, the only home I've ever known?" When I'd reply 'yes', his eyes would flash lightening and endless rage. "How could you ever think of asking me to do something like that? Have you forgotten what it is like to be different and walk through the streets? Have you forgotten the suffereing you and I both endured just by letting ourselves be seen?"_

_"No. I've not, but Erik, don't you want to know if she truly is your mother?"_

_He'd snatch me to him, gripping my arms so tightly that he cuts off the circulation of blood, making my arms go numb. "Why make me leave? Why don't you bring her to me? Surely it is much easier to bring her here."_

_"No...I won't."_

_He'd move his hands to my throat and squeeze. "Why not? Are you determined to have me killed?"_

_"No..." I'd grip his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from my throat, replenishing my oxygen supply. "I...won't...risk...her...falling...ill! She's...like...like a...a..."_

_"A mother!" he'd shout; then, he'd crush my esophogus, killing me._

"No! Erik wouldn't do that! Atleast he wouldn't kill me!" I shake that thought away. The better possibility is him thanking me for trying to help him. Yes, that would be much better than death or releasing his outrageous temper.

Before I can come up with another explanation, I am standing at the alley entrance. "I must hope that this simple reasoning will satisfy him." I open the door and start down the dark corridors, slowly creeping nearer to the black lake. As I climb into the row boat, a song from my childhood comes to mind. I feel like I'm in a fairytale...the one where a brave warrior must cross a dangerous mote to get to the mysterious fortress on the other side.

_"I love the part,_

_In fairytales,_

_That's very near the end,_

_When all the kingdom cheers for their new queen._

_And all is well._

_And all is good._

_And everyone belongs._

_And happily they're ever aftering._

_But when I enter,_

_The kingdom of dreams._

_And face the promise,_

_Of all I can be._

_Will they see me as,_

_A heroin._

_Tell me, _

_Will they let me in._

_Won't someone let me in!"_

"Kiera? Is that you?" Erik's voice startles me as I pull the boat ashore.

"Yes. I promised I'd return, did I not? How are you?" I take a deep breath, pushing a few stray strands of silver hair out of my face. "I'm sorry I did not come sooner; our first guest arrived today."

"Well, congratulations."

"I would consider that a compliment if it weren't for the fact that this gentleman is in fact the daroga, Nadir Khan. Your words are irony to my ears. It's by God's grace he didn't follow me after our little discussion earlier."

"What do you mean..." Erik cocks his head to one side. "It's by God's grace he didn't follow you after your _little discussion_?"

"Once he realized who I was, he asked about you. He wanted to know where you resided, but I refused to talk. Our friendship is more important to me than an old aquaintance's curiosity."

He nods and then, after a moment of silence, embraces me tightly. "I'm glad to see you, mon ami. The paper this morning said that the bodies of a woman in her early twenties and child of about six years were found in an alley west of here. I thought perhaps it was you and Anna." He releases me. "Anna is all right, isn't she?"

"She's fine. I left her back at the inn with Nadir and Madam, and thank you for your concern. It's nice to know there is someone out there who doesn't want to see me dead."

"Not at all. Come inside." He opens the door for me.

"Merci." I head straight for the den, plopping down on the sofa when I reach it. "I've spoken with Madam Mardon about the blanket, if you're interested."

He hands me a cup of tea. "Of course I am." Taking his usual seat in the armchair, he sits his tea cup aside and folds his arms across his chest. "I'm listening intently."

"She is one-hundred percent certain that the blanket belonged to her son. She told me he was wrapped in it the night he was kidnapped from his crib. I would have drawn my conclusion there, but she continued. Madam will not say for sure if you are her son without seeing you. I explained to her that you did not like going out into public, and I wasn't going to bring her here to catch her death. Now, I must ask you this. Erik, are you curious enough as to whether or not Madam Sandria is your mother that you will leave this place of refuge to go see her?" I wait for his reply of 'no'.

"I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I thought I'd learned that lesson long ago, but apparently not." He is talking more to himself than answering my question. "Kiera, I am intuitive, but I can't risk being seen. Surely you understand?"

"I do, but for heaven's sake, don't you want to know what your last name is? Or would rather be called Monsieur le Fantome for the remaindor of your life?"

He sighs. "Monsieur le Fantome is a dangerous and hated name now...after the incident that set the Opera aflame."

In a hopeless and rather desperate attempt to bring him and Madam together, I say, "I promised I'd save you from insanity, Erik, and still intend to do so."

"Indeed, you did. Have you concocted a plan for that challenge yet?"

"Upon my return to the inn, Madam, Anna, Nadir, and myself are going on a picnic in the valley outside of town. I'd like you to join us." I take a sip of my tea.

"Kiera, I can't take that chance." He stands up and walks across the room.

"Erik, if you can take the chance of staying down here in this God foresaken place, you can come with me on the picnic," I retort.

"Please, mon ami, with Nadir there, I'll surely hear more about the past than I care to, and on top of that, human nature will let the police find me." He relocates to tower over me, forcing me to look up. "Is that so difficult for you to comprehend?"

"I understand perfectly, but I think that a bit of interaction with other people will help you, Erik. You've been down here for far too long, with little to no company," I continue trying to persuade Monsieur le Stubborn Fantome.

"Why is it, exactly, that you wish to save me from insanity? You're previous explanation is a bit vague. Care to refresh my mind?"

"Erik, really, do I need a reason for wanting to help you?" His cold stare greets me with his reply. "Very well, then. The truth is, Erik, that I don't want to lose you." I keep my attention set on his black shoes.

"Lose me?"

"Yes. Everyone I have ever cared has met their doom. My mother, Madam Bardoix...all that's left is you, Anna, and Madam Mardon. If I lost you, I'd be alone in this world; you're the only person like me. Erik, I love you." I look up at his blanched face.

"What? What did you say?" He takes a step back, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I love you. All of my life I've been looking for someone like me, but I was unsuccessful in my search, until I met you. I lost my mother when I was no more than eight years old, and Madam Bardoix, our neighbor. She cared for me like a daughter until my father killed her. When they died, they took a piece of my heart with them. I've never truly allowed myself to grow fond of anyone since then for fear of another part of my heart being taken away. Half of my soul was disentigrated the very instant tey were taken from me." I stand to my feet and face him, eye-to-eye. "But when I'm with you, I'm whole again."

"Kiera...I...I don't know what to say."

"You've no need to say anything. I'll leave you in peace now that you know how I truly feel about you. Still, consider my invitation to the picnic. Au revoir." I start towards the door.

"No." Grabbing my arm, he draws me to him. "Stay."

"Erik..." I begin.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you love me." He raises my chin with two fingers. "I have to know."

I look into his beautiful, blue-green eyes for a long moment before answering his plea. "I love you, Erik, and always will."

He searches my soul for what seems an eternity. After this, he takes in every movement I make, trying to decifer its meaning. Even my breathing seems to have caught his interest. My potential 'somone like me' is being very cautious when it comes to determining if I'm being absolutely truthful in my confession, analyzing every detail that is visable. "Kiera...where is this coming from?"

"My heart, Erik...the deepest hollow in my heart. If you don't believe me, feel how it beats." I take his hand and put it to my chest. He tenses and tries to pull away, but I'll not allow it. "It beats for you, mon ami. Each and every time I come near you, this is what happens. Every time I hear your sweet voice...every time I see the glint of your mask...every time I hear the rustle of your cloak."

"Kiera, you could find better men out there than me."

"No! Don't you dare say that! I cannot and will not!" I cup his cheeks, releasing his hand, letting it retract to his side. "What don't you understand about 'I love you, Erik'?"

"Kiera, I understand, but after the last time a woman supposedly loved me, she shattered my heart, brought the police down here, and left with her childhood sweetheart. She didn't even offer her gratitude for all that I'd done for her. I taught her to sing, got her the leading role, sang her to sleep...I did more for her than you can imagine." A tear escapes from his hurt-filled eyes. "How can I be sure that you won't do the same? My heart cannot take being broken again."

"Erik, I had no childhood sweetheart, and I fear the police as much as you. Have I not thanked you countless times for everthing that you've done for me?" I wipe the tear from his cheek. "You saved my life, and I am enternally grateful."

"I know."

The sudden urge to know the taste of his lips comes upon me. I fight my want to kiss him for as long as I can. _How can I fight this craving?_ I think. _Why can't he kiss me?_ Then, an idea pops into my head. _I'll tempt him!_ I put as little space between Erik's body and mine as possible, and let my lips hover barely a half an inch from his. "Allow me to ask you something?"

"Yes." I can tell he too his fighting his want.

"What are your feelings towards me?"

He sighs a longing sigh. "Kiera...I...I can only show you." He brings his lips to mine, his arms around my waist holding me in my place.

My eyes grow wide with this sudden gesture; though this is what I wanted, I didn't really expect it. At last, my eyes close, and I return Erik's bold move. As this long awaited kiss continues, my hands wander up his arms and hold onto the back of his neck for a time. They then explore the brunette strands of hair surmounting his head before running along his arms again and onto his muscular chest. My heart begins to race as his hands take interest in roaming over my back, neck, collarbone, and through my hair. "Erik, I love you more than anything this world can offer. Music means nothing to me compared to you," I pull away briefly.

"I feel the same." He kisses me again but only briefly. "You have to get back; they're waiting for you."


	18. Announcement

**I know I really shouldn't use this chapter space for an author's note, but I have to make an announcement and clarify something.**

**As some of you know, I'm holding a baby name contest...THIS IS FOR THIS STORY! Not me.**

**I'd like all of you...if possible...to send in some that you think would sound good for Erik and Kiera's child. Remember the last name is Mardon...I know that's a give-a-way of what's to come in the current fic. The baby won't come until the sequel but still...I want to have it settled that way I won't have to use so much time up thinking of names. Also, since all of my loyal reviewers and others seem to enjoy this, the contest is a way to get involved. So, PLEASE...PM me your names. I'll do my best to put a thank you when I've ended the contest.**

**Merci and au revoir,**

**Fop Hunter the Almighty**


	19. Chapter 19

**WARNING:**** This chapter is shorter than normal and moves quickly.**

_**Name Contest Results:**_** I know everyone is eagerly awaiting the winners of the baby name contest. Before I announce the names and the person who sent them to me, I'd like to give an honorable and most appreciated mention of all participants:Evilina, Phantom's Ange, -BeeVee-THEEAmazing, Mengela Daae, PhantomCat901, monpetiteange13, Mitsuki Himura, phantomlvr, PhantomLover07, Skyphoenix, Kanashii-chan, phantomgirl27, Calew, and Silver Huntress2! Thank you all so much for sending in names and reviews. They all meant the world to me and even though many of you did not have the name you gave chosen doesn't mean I don't greatly appreciate your help. **_**The results are at the end of the chapter.**_

**SPECIAL THANKS TO -BeeVee-THEEAmazing FOR BETA-ING FOR ME! LOVE YA BEE!!!! **

_Erik_

The kiss Kiera and I share is one of absolute love; Christine's kiss was hardly as passionate as this. I've never loved a woman like I love Kiera. I don't have to threaten or intimidate her to retain her attention. Kiera is much more understanding than any other person I've ever come in contact with. When she said that her heart beat rapidly whenever I was near, and she cleverly kept her lips so near mine, a light shone so bright in my heart that any doubts about my love for Kiera vanished. Everything about her tells me that she cares more for me than life itself: the look in her dark eyes, her movement, her words, not to mention her roaming hands. _Oh, how her body language affected my actions._

However, my decision to take her back to the surface was one for her own safety. As long as she was here, her lips connected with mine and her body brushing against mine, my body would not listen to my mind. I had to send her away; afterall, remaining with me posed the potential of her losing her innocence.

"Come, cherie; I'll escort you back." I kiss her cheek. "I'll not be the reason for keeping Madam, Nadir, and Anna waiting."

She looks up at me, a certain hunger visible in her eyes...along with confusion and betrayel. "Erik...that cannot be your true reason. Why are you really sending me away?"

"Kiera, I am a lonely man...and you are a beautiful woman. Those two characteristics mixed with the hunger I see in your eyes and feel burning in my soul are nothing more than a recipe for disaster."

"How can that be when love and trust are also in that mixture?" She stares into my eyes, pleading with me to let her stay and rid her of the hunger.

"You've too much ahead of you to lose your purity now. I'm not sending you away because I don't want what you are willing to give. It's the fact that I _**do **_want it that I am." I keep an arm's length between us.

She sighs. "Am I so like a book that you can read my thoughts?" She looks to the floor. "You aren't alone in that want, but I cannot free myself of my longings. If losing my virginity is what it takes, then so be it."

"Kiera, what you have determined to be easing your hunger may only deepen it. It feels as though you will die, I know, but I've coped with it for a long time...I'm still here. I'm guessing it's like wine...the older, the sweeter," I explain.

"Meaning the longer we contain ourselves, the better love will be once the time has come," she adds.

"Yes. Now, let us go before Madam begins to worry." After draping her cloak over her shoulders, I take her arm and lead her out to the boat. She steps in and moves to the opposing bench from where I sit with the oars in hand. "Ready?"

She nods and we start across the black water. "Kiera, were you being entirely truthful a moment ago at my home? Would you..."

"Sleep with you?" she finishes my question. She sighs. "Of course I would. Erik, I've had feelings for you since we met in Persia."

"Then why didn't you notify me then instead of waiting until now. That knowledge could have saved me a great deal of grief. If I'd known there was a woman out there who honestly loved me for who I was, I would have never had anything to do with Miss Daae." I stop rowing and let the boat sit still on the water. "Kiera..."

"I didn't think you felt the same; I wasn't about to make a fool of myself."

"All you had to do was ask, cherie," I assure her. "I held feelings for you then as well."

She smiles. "And your reasoning for not informing me?"

I laugh. "I've never been one for admitting feelings."

Once we have reached the shore, I take her hand and help her out. "Mademoiselle." I offer my arm to her.

"Merci, Monsieur." She graciously accepts my offer and walks by my side as we make our way back to the alley entrance. "Erik, did you and Christine..."

"No!" I am quick to answer. "For a time, I had hoped she'd understand that I wanted her, but..."

"No more. Please, I can't stand to hear anymore." She turns her head away.

"Kiera, it's not that way anymore. I love you...Christine was nothing." I grip her forearms and hold her steady. "You must believe me." When she looks at the ground instead of me, I pin her against the wall and press my lips to hers.

"Erik!" She pulls away.

"Kiera..." I finger a lock of her silver hair that has come out of place. "Please, you are the world to me. When I'm with you, I don't feel out of place; I feel like this is where I belong...at your side."

"Well, well, what have we here?" a familiar voice penetrates the silence following my statement. "Hello, Kiera." Nadir steps from the shadows. "Good day, Erik."

"Kiera, you..." I back away from her. "You brought him here. You said you didn't tell him where I was."

"No! Erik, I didn't bring him here! I would never betray your trust," she pleads with me. "Nadir, you followed me!"

"Oh, come now, Erik. Tell me you aren't after Kiera now. Didn't you learn your lesson with Miss Daae? Or should I say Madam de Chagney?" Nadir sneers.

"You truly are low to bring up the name of the woman who caused me more pain than anyone or anything. Do you enjoy taunting me with my own memories and faults? Besides, how did you know about Christine?" I shoot a glance at Kiera is leaning against the wall, weeping silently. She's clearly had more than she can take.

"Fortunately, I had a word with Madam Giry, the ballet mistress; however, like Mademoiselle Torque, she refused to give me your location. I had the hunch that Kiera might be coming here after our little chat," Monsieur Khan explains. "She simply cannot keep her mouth shut."

"How dare you!" Kiera screams and storms into the darkness.

"Daroga, I don't recall you being so cruel and unfeeling. What's happened to you?"

"I'd expect you to know why, Erik. Afterall, you were responsible." Nadir approaches, an angry stare falling upon me.

"Daroga, you gave me your permission to end Reza's suffering," I sigh.

"My, Erik, I've never seen you so calm after being accused of something," he teases.

"Well, you know what they say, 'a woman can have a strange effect on a man'. I must now ask you to leave, Monsieur." I narrow my gaze and point in the direction he must exit in.

"You're a poor host, Erik, sending a guest away."

"No, I'm being reasonable, Monsieur. You insulted the woman I love, and now I must seek her out to console her before she gets lost. Leave, Daroga!" I order, raising my voice slightly. I take a deep breath and turn away to find Kiera.

Kiera is very good at hiding. Her black doesn't stand out, but her silver hair will provide some help. "Kiera?" I call to her at the sound of muffled sobs. "Kiera, where are you?" I follow this sound until I see the faint glimmer of silver in the hall leading to the diva's dressing room mirror. "There you are, my dear." I crouch beside her, stroking her hair. "Are you all right?"

"What kind of question is that?" she snaps, glaring up at me, tears glistening on her pale cheeks. "I never expected you to believe him over me, and on top of that, not defend me against his insult!"

"Kiera, I'm terribly sorry, but you stormed off before I could defend you. However, love, I have sent him away. You must calm down." I remain calm, holding back the flame of anger burning in my stomach. "Take a deep breath and relax a bit."

"Erik..." she breathes, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I just don't understand why he had to do that. Why he had to say all of those things to you; I knwo they were more directed at you, but each word cut at my heart."

"Love, you must learn to ignore the daroga. He's had a lot happen to him over the years. His wife died in childbirth, but the boy lived. Unfortunately, Reza, the same miracle child, had an awful disease that peralized him, killing him slowly. I asked Nadir if he wanted a way to ease the lad's pain..." I pause, the details of that night pouring back into my mind.

"You killed him, didn't you?" She looks up at me, searching my eyes for the answer.

"I gave him a potion that would make him fall asleep and never wake up...the most peaceful death imaginable. The Daroga still hasn't forgiven me, even though he gave me permission to. He can't seem to remember that I cared that boy like he was my own son. He was completely blind when we met and trusted me, defending me against his father's normal verbal attacks at some remark I'd make." A tear falls from my right eye, but is caught by my mask. "I know it didn't hurt me as bad as it did Nadir. I mean, Reza was his son, his own flesh and blood, and the only thing he had left of his wife, Rookheya, but I still couldn't help shedding a fair amount of tears for him. He didn't deserve that wretched sickness, he didn't deserve death...he deserved peace, and death was the only way to achieve that."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, taking my hand and kissing it. "Truly, I am."

"You've no need to be." I kiss her cheek. "Let's get back on track, shall we? And get you back to the surface?"

"Very well." She nods and allows me to help her to her feet.

When we atlast reach the alley exit, I find it hard to say goodbye to her. "Well, I suppose I'll see you the next time you visit?" I take both of her hands in my own. "Don't that visit be too distant."

"Erik, I'll come again tomorrow and spend the day with you. I promise." She gives me a reassuring smile before she brings her lips to mine again. "Don't forget your invitation to the picnic; I'd really like you to meet Madam. Above all, I want to spend more time with you." Turning away she says, "Au revoir, mon chere." Then, she steps through the door out into the alley, leaving me alone to await her return.

_Should I go to the picnic? Will they accept me? Will Kiera really be there? If so, will she treat me the same amon others as she does when we are alone? Will Madam Mardon ask me to remove my mask? Should I remove it if asked? What will her reaction be if I do? Could it be a setup to capture the Phantom? Has it been planned? _An endless stream of questions go on a rampage throughout my mind.

"If Nadir is as angry as he appeared to be when I sent him away, he will probably have gone to the police, and they're on their way. That means they'll find their way down here, capture me, and take me to prison to await my death. My arrest and eventual death would devistate Kiera; she'll go mad. I can't stay here."

I finally decide to go to the picnic. Fortunately, I kept Caesar, the white stallion from La Prophette, in a stall hidden from view and after brushing him and throwing a saddle over his back, set out through the back country to find my way to the valley outside Paris. I ride for atleast half an hour before I reach the green grasses of the countryside. When I first arrive, I can see no one. _Perhaps they changed their minds about coming._

"Erik?" Kiera's voice comes from behind me over the whinnying of a couple of horses. "Is that you?"

I turn around to see my dear Kiera walking hurrying towards me. Her hair is floating on the wind as a mass of grey storm clouds. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" I joke, outstretching my arms to her.

"Erik! You're here!" She rushes into my embrace, burying her face into my chest. "I didn't think you would come!"

"You thought wrong, my dear."

"Kiera..." Madam comes up behind us. "Is this the Erik you spoke of?"

"Yes, Madam. This is the one who possessed the baby blanket," Kiera replies, turning away from me to look at the elderly woman looking me over curiously.

"He...he...he looks just like Andrew. I'd never forget those eyes and that handsome face," she stammers. "All that's left is the deformity. Why do you wear that mask, my dear lad?"

"It covers a deformity I have had my entire life," I answer.

"You...you are my Erik!" Madam exclaims, reaching out to touch my uncovered cheek. "Oh, my son, I'm so sorry for not being there for you all these years. I had no idea you were alive. After you were kidnapped, we searched for six months but the search failed. Can you ever forgive me?" Tears began to stream down her wrinkled cheeks.

I am speechless for a time, only able to stare at this broken woman on her knees weeping infront of me. "Kiera..." I whisper, pleading with her as to what I should do with my eyes.

"Calm her, Erik," she returns quietly, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I nod in compliance and kneel down beside my mother as she cries. "I forgive you...Mother."

She looks up into my eyes, searching out my soul for sincerity. "Oh, my son!" She throws her arms around my neck. "My sweet boy...my handsome reminder of my beloved Andrew...my blood...you've been returned to me at last."

**The winners:**

**Girl- Musetta (PhantomCat901) Celeste (Kanashii-chan) **

**Boy- Erik (phantomgirl27) Donato (PhantomCat901)**

**For everyone who's name was not chosen, I'm sorry. They were all wonderful...I wish I could somehow use them all. You know though, I believe I will write a little one shot comedy with all of you in it as characters. How's that sound? READ AND REVIEW!**


	20. Chapter 20

_Kiera_

After about three months, Erik and I are now even closer than before. Every few days we meet at our normal picnic spot in the valley just outside Paris for Erik and Madam to talk about the past. I don't interfere whatsoever; I sit quietly and listen. Madam still is not aware of the relationship her son and I have. We try to keep our hands and lips seperated in her presence; Erik and his mother have just been reunited, flinging a romance between her long lost son and the girl she took in off the street could easily overwhelm her. It may even cause her to grow jealous, and I wouldn't be able to bear such a situation. Anna knows, of course; there is nothing that escapes her eyes and ears. The girl is witty..without a doubt.

Erik now laughs regularly and openly. I see much more of his sweet smile and the glimmer in his gorgous eyes when he chuckles. He has become more open about things and expresses rage in a more "civilized" way. The cat-gut lasso has taken new resident in a desk drawer, along with the many reminders of death and his haunting past.

I stand on the balcony of my room, watching and waiting. The silver moon shines brightly, doing its best to match the color of my hair...a pathetic attempt. A gentle breeze dances through my hair, making the thin material of my night gown billow out, revealing my bare feet. The chill of the wind creates goose flesh on my pale skin. My hands rest on the railing, supporting my weary body. "Why must you wait so late to come, Erik?"

_Ding...ding..._the clock chimes two a.m.

_"Masquerade. _

_Paper faces on parade. _

_Masquerade. _

_Hide your face so the world will never find you."_

Erik's ever familiar voice drifts on the wind, swirling about me, pulling me closer and closer to the otherside of the balcony.

_"Masquerade. _

_Every face a different shade. _

_Masquerade. _

_Look around there's another mask behind you." _

I look tothe far side to find a dark figure standing menacingly in the corner. As I look closer, suspecting Erik, the glint given off by the moonlight striking white porcelain gives him away. "You never cease to amaze me, my dear."

"Likewise." He takes a step forward, outstretching one arm, beckoning me to come to him. "What kind of welcome is this?" he teases.

I laugh quietly, not wanting to wake Anna, who is asleep in the opposing room. I walk into his embrace and turn about in his arms, back to torso. "Forgive me, mon chere. How rude of me."

He sighs into my hair as he runs his hands over my waist and stomach. "I forgive you, Kiera. You look beautiful even in your night gown." He presses a kiss to my left cheek, the cold temperature of his mask sending a shiver through my body.

"Merci." I reach up and caress the warm flesh of his uncoverd cheek. "I'm glad to see you."

"As am I, and now, let's get you out of the chilly night air." He leads me through the balcony doors into my bedroom, closing them once I am seated on the bed. Then he sits down with me and runs his fingers through my hair.

"Erik..." I sigh as he trails his lips up my neck. "I must ask you something."

"Not now." He continues to busy himself with feasting on my flesh; his hands slide up and down my waist, making me shudder with excitement. I absolutely love it when he does this, but what I wish to discuss with him is more important.

"Erik." I pull away. "I must ask you about your relationship with Miss Daae. I cannot help but be a bit jealous."

He looks at me as though I have betrayed his trust by asking. "Why is it that you want to know? Was my last explanation not good enough?"

"Erik, if you and I are to continue in this fashion, it seems only right that I know of the things that went on between the two of you. No secrets," I explain.

He takes a deep breath and runs his hand over the top of his head. "I agree." There is a brief pause. "Things only went as far as a kiss. She did come to my home on a few occassions, but nothing happened. I had hoped for things to go further until she..." He stands up and takes about a half dozen steps away from me.

"Erik? Are you all right?"

"She grew curious of what lay beneath my mask; she wanted to see the monster's curse, and she did. She got a front row view of the marred flesh that makes up my face. That started the chain of events that soon led to the destruction of the Opera. I regret ever meeting that selfish little..." He turns back to me. "I pray you wouldn't do that to me, Kiera?"

"Of course not. Erik, I understand that removing your mask is violating your trust. I am curious, as I've never seen the extent of the damage, but I will wait until you are comfortable enough to show me yourself." I go to him, leaving the decision of our lips meeting to him.

"Merci." He leans against me more, forcing me onto my back. He shows off a sly smile as he hovers over me, the hand not holding him up tracing my collarbone. After lowering himself on top of me, he buries his face in the curve of my neck, nipping at the tender skin.

"Erik..." I whisper when his hands run down to my thighs. "Erik, not here...not now." I push his chest away from mine once I've managed to squeeze my hands inbetween our bodies. "Have you forgotten that the search for Anna's relatives has been unsuccessful? My love, she'll wake if we go any further."

He raises himself up, allowing me to get off the bed to avoid any more contact. "Very well."

"I'll return in a moment. I'm going to check on Anna." I walk into the next room to find Anna fast asleep on the sofa, one of her arms dangling off the side, the covers on the floor. A laugh escapes me. "Squirming child." I put the covers back over her and roll her onto her back, resting her arms across her stomach. "Bonsoir, petite." Finished here, I return to find Erik staring into the mirror of my vanity; his mask is held in his left hand while the other traces the flesh and lines on his right cheek. "Erik...would you like me to turn away?"

He immediately covers that half of his face with his hand and replaces the mask. "No. It's all right now. How is Anna?"

"Sleeping peacefully," I reply.

"Good. Now, on to another matter..." I raise a brow. "I need you to come back to the Opera with me."

"What? At 2:30 a.m.? Besides that, if Anna wakes without me here, she'll be afraid."

"Leave her a note and come with me. You must hear something I've composed," he persists.

"Can't it wait until morning?" I groan.

"It is morning...I win. Come." He takes my hand. "If you are tired, I've brought a horse. I will ride behind you and hold you up while you sleep; after you've heard my masterpiece, you may sleep in the other bedroom." He'll not give up.

"Erik...I..." I make the mistake of looking into his beautiful eyes and give in. "I'll write Anna and Madam a note so they'll know where I am, and then we'll be off." I write the note for Anna in print...she's still learning to read, but my wording should be simple enough for her to manage. I write Madam's the same way but larger. Her vision is quite poor, and she needs to be able to read it.

"Ready?" Erik asks after I've placed the notes in view of Madam and Anna.

"Just let me put some pants on." I pull on a pair of breeches and return to his line of sight. "Now."

"Excellent. We must climb down the rope hanging from the balcony." He exits the room and immediately climbs over the rail and down the rope. "It's all right, Kiera."

Once I am close to the ground, Erik helps me down. He leads me into the shadows where a white horse is waiting. After he's helped me onto the horse, he mounts behind me, reaching around me to grasp the reins. With a gentle nudge, the stallion starts towards the Opera Populaire.

"Kiera..." Someone shakes me gently. "Kiera, wake up. We're here."

I look up to see Erik standing over me, his eyes gazing into my soul. "Erik...where are we?"

"You're in my house, Kiera; you fell asleep on the horse." He helps me up from the sofa. "Are you awake enough to listen to my newly completed work?"

I release a long yawn. "I'm not sure."

"Then it's a good thing I fixed some tea." He leads me into the kitchen and offers me a seat at the table. "Here you are."

Erik sits across from me, drinking his tea in silence; he simply looks at me, a smile occupying his face. His blue-green eyes shine brightly in the faint firelight. The glint from his mask merely summons my curiously about what lies beneath. I can feel the question bubbling in my stomach...forcing its way up my throat to the tip of my tongue. I try to contain it but suddenly blurt it. "Why won't you let anyone see what's behind your mask, Erik?"

He chokes on his tea. "Pardon me?"

"Oh, dear! I'm so sorry, Erik! I didn't mean to..." Realization hits me about what I've just said.

He stands, holding up a hand to silence me. "Why would you ask that? You've said countless times that you'd wait until I was comfortable enough to show you. Have you spent some time with Miss Daae?"

"No. I just...Erik, please, forgive me! I'll wait for eternity if I must! I love you!" I exclaim in tears.

"A woman's natural interest in things should be damned; it has the tendancy to ruin everything," he says calmly.

"I know. I don't know why I asked that! It just came out!" I continue to cry.

"However, you are right. You told me that if we were to continue in this manner, we could have no secrets, and by keeping my face hidden, I am keeping a secret from you...my darkest." He relocates to stand before me and takes my hand. "I'm quite certain you won't be afraid but touch it first." He reaches up and removes the mask with the hand that isn't filled my mine. Then, once I've turned away, he brings my hand to the skin of his cheek. "Let your fingers roam until they're satisfied."

My fingers run along the rough flesh, giving somewhat of a mental image of what I will soon look upon. After a brief moment, I flatten my palm onto the skin and caress it gently. "Erik..."

"Whenever you are comfortable," he answers, awaiting my judgment.

I turn my head back towards him to gaze upon the marred skin. At first, I blink in disbelief. _His voice is so beautiful...his eyes so wondrously gorgeous...and he is kept from greatness by this...this infection._ My eyes adjust to his visage, accepting the fact that this deformity is part of Erik...just as his voice and eyes are. He trembles under my gaze and touch like a dog being scolded by his master. To ease his obviously trobuled mind, I press a kiss to the skin at the heart of the scar. "I see nothing that should condemn you to the life you have had to live."

He looks at me with confusion beaming in his eyes. "Kiera, I don't..."

"This is a part of you, chere, and I accept it. Who knows, without it you might not be the magnificent musician you are...everything has it's price. Without my strange looks, I may have never met you." I move my hands to remove the wig and bald cap he wears. Underneath, I find light brown hair...clearly it's changed from the dark brown Madam said it was when he was young. "Erik, you love me as I am, and I love you the same."

A tear falls down his cheek, stopping when it collides with my hand. "My dear..."

"Say no more." I adjoin our lips, making him drop his mask. His hands now free to wander, find their way to my breasts. Of course, with only my night gown on, accessibility is quite simple. To my surprise, he does not squeeze them; he merely cups them for a moment and moves on to explore the silver forest surmounting my head.

"Kiera..." He restrains himself. "This isn't right."

"Since when do you care?" I tease.

"Since I met a woman who wouldn't resist me," he laughs. "Darling, you really should be more cautious of me." He circles me, one hand constantly touching me.

"Erik, quite frankly, I don't care. Now, why have you really brought me here? I know you still aren't done with that piece." I turn about and caress his right cheek with the the back of my hand.

He sighs. "To be with you...alone."

"So I thought." As he wraps his arms around my waist, I say, "You realize we must tell your mother of our relationship; Madam Mardon cannot be kept in the dark forever."

"True, but how?"

"The masked ball we're having for the Feste de Fools." I smile. "You'll be unnoticed as everyone will be wearing masks."

"I don't know, dear. The last masked ball I ventured to turned out nothing like I'd hoped."

"Erik, I'm nothing like Christine. I wouldn't betray you. Please," I plead.

"Very well," he agrees. "When is it?"

"Excactly a week from now, and might I suggest that you create some other costume. The Red Death may still linger in the minds of some of the guests."

**It's coming to an end, as you can probably guess. After this, I'm writing one more chapter. But fear not, faithful reviewers, I'm planning a sequel.**


	21. Chapter 21

_**WARNING:**_** This chapter is VERY short and moves VERY quick. Afterall, this is my final chapter. And forgive any typos and errors...I'm making Bee-Vee read the end at the same time as everyone else. Wnjoy!**

_Kiera_

"Kiera, it's time to start getting dressed. Our guests will be arriving soon," Madam Mardon called as she walked to her own room to ready for the masquerade party later in the evening. "I'd like you to be downstairs to greet our guests as they arrive."

"Of course, Madam." I walk to my wardrobe and take out my costume for the evening. Behind the screen, I first put on my black stockings, followed by the dress, also black, which is buttoned down the back and comes halfway down my cavs. The skirt is decoreated with the different constellations in the night sky. My hair is braided and twisted into a bun, adorned by a silver pin in the shape of a crescent moon. I wear solid black shoes; my mask matches the rest of my attire and is outlined by silver sequens that seem to be stars.

Once I'm dressed, I venture downstairs where Madam is waiting in the parlor. She is wearing a dark green dress with a matching mask; her gray hair is pulled back in a simple bun with a ribbon tied round it...simple but gorgeous. "Well, look who's dressed up to the occassion," I tease. "You look wonderful, Madam."

She laughs. "Thank you, child. You look absolutely magnificent. You'll probably have to beat the bachelors off with a stick."

"I doubt that," I return. "Now, is there anything else that needs to be set out before the guests arrive?"

"No, my dear. We'll be completely finished once the band is here."

Like it's been planned, a knock at the door signals their arrival. I open the door to a group of men dressed in matching evening wear and masks. Having lead them to their seats, I leave them to warm-up and tune their instruments.

As the evening continues, dozens of guests pass through the doors of the inn and crowd the parlor. As the ensemble plays, some couples dance in each other's arms, while others simply talk and catch up on the latest gossip. Everyone is content and happy...except me. My dear Erik has still not shown himself, and at eleven o'clock, the though of rejection pushses its way into my mind. _What if he's decided that I'm not good enough for him? What if he's gone back to Christine?_

_"Locked in my solitude,_

_Hid from the multitude._

_No one would love me._

_All alone with just my music."_

"Erik!" I gasp at the sound of his voice. I search the room excitedly for his familiar frame. "Erik, where are you?" Hope is restored to me that he still loves me.

_"Turned to a runaway,_

_Running both night and day._

_No one would love me._

_In the dark I played sweet music."_

I continue to follow his voice to the stairs. "Erik, must you always hide?"

_"Then, at last, a song from the gloom,_

_Seemed to cry, 'I hear you',_

_You share my fears,_

_My torment and my tears."_

"Why must you always hide yourself?"

"It's more fun to let you find me." A pair of strong arms envelop me.

"Since when do you care about fun?"

"Since you brought me back from the brink of insanity and showed me that I can still live life with my deformity," he replies, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You look lovely, Kiera; the night sky never looked so beautiful."

"Merci, mon chere." I look at his costume: a black suit and crovatte and a dark purple vest. He is wearing the same dark wig he's always worn, along with his cloak. The mask, however, is different...only his bottom lip and down is visable. "You look quite handsome yourself."

"Thank you." Again, he adjoins our lips, pulling me closer as this kiss continues.

"What's all of this about?" Madam taps me on the shoulder. "Who is your..." She hesitates. "Friend?"

"It's me, Mother...Erik," he answers for me.

She seems appalled. "Might I ask why your lips were locked?"

"Madam, we...I..." I cannot find the words to explain.

"I love her, Mother. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me and everything I could ever ask for in a woman." Erik has no trouble speaking up.

"Well...I can see why you love her, but I must ask..." She turns her gaze towards me. "Do you love my son, Kiera?"

"With all of my heart."

Madam smiles. 'I've always thought that the two of you would be a perfect match. You're alike in so many ways: your passion for music, your interest in gaining knowledge, and your pasts."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Erik reaches into his pocket and pulls out a circular object. "Kiera...you're my 'someone like me'. Will you be the one at my side through thick and thin? The one I can always look to for support and guidance? The person who will love me, come what may? Will you be my wife?" He holds out a golden band engraved with roses and three blood red rubies at its center...the largest inbetween the other two.

I am awe-stricken...utterly speechless. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I must find an alternative method of replying. I throw my arms around him and press my lips to his.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he laughs, sliding the ring on my finger.

"What's going on?" Anna appears at the bottom of the stairs. "Kiera...is that an engagement ring?" She flies to where I stand and examines my left hand thoroughly.

"Yes, Anna, it is. Erik and I are now engaged."

"Congratulations!" she squeals, though not loud enough to be heard by the other guests.

"Calm down, Anna. We'll talk in the morning: right now, you are going back to bed. You're no quite old enough to stay up for the parties yet. Bonne nuit, petite." I send her back to bed.

"Bonne buit, Kiera! Bonne nuit, Madam Mardon! Bonne nuit, Erik!" she calls as she climbs the stairs.

"Congratulations, my dears." Madam kisses us both. "I've always thought of you as a daughter, and now you will be my daughter-in-law."

"Merci."

The click of a pistol's hammer being pulled back draws our attention to the man standing a few feet from us. _The daroga!_

"Bonsoir, Erik," he sneers, pointing the pistol at Eril's heart. "Having a good time?"

"Monsieur Khan, what is the meaning of thi madness?" I question, pushing the gun's barrel away from Erik.

"Madness?" He presses the pistol to my chest and backs me against the wall. "Oh, no, my dear! This isn't madness...tha...tha...that THING..." He gestures to my fiance. "Finding love...finding happiness...after what he did to my son, is madness! He deserves to lose someone just as close to him! An eye for an eye!" He presses the barrel deeper into my chest

"Nadir, release her. She's done nothing to you." Erik puts a hand on the barrel, trying to guide it away from me. "You must calm down, my friend."

"Don't you DARE tell me to calm down! You took my son from me, you bastard!"

"Nadir, I loved that boy as if he were my own. You weren't the only one who shed tears for him for many days." He sighs. "Reza was a sweet boy and lived his life to the fullest; he didn't deserve to die the way he would have had you let the diease progress until it brought Death to his door. He is in a better place." He tries to ease the the derranged Perisan police chief.

"Stop!" Nadir turns the gun on Erik.

_BANG!!!!!_

_**FINIS**_

_**I'm cruel, aren't I?You'll find out what happens in the sequel. Mwahahaha!!! To my readers and reviewers: Thanks forbeing so loyal. I hoe to start the squel soon before you all gang up on me and lock me in the torture chamber...but wait...I'd probably like that. THEN AGAIN...you might lock me in a little room with Raoul! OO NOOOOOO!!!!! Anything but that!!!**_

_**Au revoir,**_

_**Fop Hunter the Almighty**_


	22. Very Important Announcement

_**THE SEQUEL IS UP! IT'S CALLED **_**THE WINDING ROAD!**

_**Please Read and Review otherwise I'll be cruel and not update! Mwahahaha!!!**_

_**Merci and au revoir,**_

_**Fop Hunter the Almighty**_


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